Comfort & Possession Stories - Volume I - Drogo x Inca
by Philliwolf5
Summary: Drogo and Inca have been in a passionate relationship for quite some time, enjoying the pleasure with none of the drama. When Drogo realizes he wants more, his doubts get in the way. Could those doubts disrupt what seems to be a good thing? And what secret past is Inca hiding? Set after the events of Comfort & Possession. Cover image by Citizen Olek. OC x OC
1. Misunderstandings

**(Thundercats 2011)**

**Volume I – Drogo x Inca **

**A/N - I want to apologize to my Thundercat readers out there. I know I took absolutely FOREVA to get this out, but my mind was on flat like a tire when it came to this. So here is the first of two (maybe three) chapters, a short epilogue for Inca and Drogo. Others will follow, but you know it may be a while. Thanks for your patience and for sticking with me! Please read and review!**

**ALSO: I just did a spell check and some light proofreading, so if there's any mistakes, let me know! Thanks!**

******DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thundercats or have any affiliation with the creators, producers, etc., nor do I receive any compensation for this work.**

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**Chapter 1 - Misunderstandings**

Inca sat next to Drogo in the pews waiting for the arrival of Cheetara. Glancing up at the altar, she spied Tygra shifting his feet uncomfortably. The prince was quite nervous, she noted with a smirk. She shook her head. _Males…_

It was funny how they could be so confident when it came to combat, or when chasing after females. But when confronted with matters of the heart, their nerves were ultra-frayed. Most of them hesitated at being so vulnerable.

_Well, most of them_, she thought sullenly as she tried again to shift over and put some space between her and Drogo. He had been hip-to-hip with her since they had sat down! She looked around, awkwardly. Didn't he know it was inappropriate?

He probably _did_ know. He just didn't care. So here she was, scooting ever closer to the stranger sitting on her other side, attempting to make Drogo behave. So she edged away as much as she could, just short of making the stranger feel uncomfortable.

But of course it wasn't too long before Drogo noticed. Instead of moving himself closer as Inca expected, the dark lion slid an arm around her waist, pulling her in close to him again. The jaguaress rolled her eyes. It was no use. Obviously it was best to bear it rather than make a scene.

Drogo felt Inca relax against him, smiling to himself. _That's my girl_. It was about time she realized that struggling against him was futile. She was his, and he would behave as such, no matter who saw.

Regardless of his clan's standing, or opinion for that matter, he was proud to be seen with her. Many of his fellow clan members had communicated disapproval at his choice of liaison. He was a highborn son of the Black Mane clan, after all.

But it was to no avail, and they were most dismayed when they were either ignored or were the recipient of one of Drogo's warning growls.

Most had learned to leave him alone when it came to that particular topic.

He and Inca had been seeing each other for quite a while now, and he faced a dilemma. He was starting to…no. He _cared_ for this female more than he ever had for any other. No…it was more than caring.

The simple truth was that he loved her.

He loved everything about her. He loved her moods, the sexy sway of her hips. He loved those captivating green eyes of hers that could set fire to his loins whether they were narrowed in annoyance or misted with pleasure.

He loved her spots, loved to count them every time she was laid bare before him. He absolutely loved…_everything_ about her. It was clear to him that he couldn't be apart from her, not for long. Neither did he want to be. He craved some sort of physical contact with her at all times when they were together.

And that was why he invaded her space. Why just being next to her was not enough. He had to _touch_ her, to be physically connected to her somehow. He had definitely never been this clingy with other females. Ever.

Most times, he had been happy to be rid of their company when they had fulfilled their purpose. It was harsh, but honest. Sex had been all females could offer him…until now.

As the ceremony progressed, the whole crowd seemed to enter into a pleasant lull, the romantic atmosphere affecting them. Even Inca leaned her head against Drogo's shoulder, her mind imagining what it would be like if it were _they_ standing up there.

Her dress would be different, of course. She liked less flamboyant garments, if she chose to wear them at all. Her affinity for male clothing when she was younger had been quite annoying to her mother, who had always wanted to dress her up in beautiful gowns befitting her beauty.

If it were up to her, Inca would have a plain yet sensible gown with flowers in her favorite color, purple. She would maybe have her hair in an upsweep with pearls and purple beads.

Drogo could wear something in a matching shade…_wait_. _What am I THINKING? _she thought, her eyes wide, a blush creeping cross her cheeks.

She discarded the route her mind was taking. This lion couldn't possibly want her in that way. Sure, they were exclusive, and now they did other things together than just have amazing sex.

But for them to take their relationship to _that_ level…she didn't know if she wanted to. She didn't even know why the thought had crossed her mind.

They listened as the couple exchanged their vows, and the ceremony quickly ended after that. As everyone moved on to the hall where the celebration would take place, Drogo held Inca's hand, and she found to her surprise that she really didn't mind.

His caressing thumb upon her hand was very relaxing.

There were Clerics posted throughout the party, and unfortunately for the couple, Drogo was pulled by Jaga to replace another who was sent on an errand elsewhere. Inca was herself indisposed shortly after, having been summoned by Leia and her family.

She wanted to enjoy this day with her best friend, but she felt her heart lurch as she was taken further and further from her lover. They would make up for it later, surely. But still, she had wanted a dance with him. He was after all, a terrific dancer.

The time was spent socializing, giving well-wishes, and drinking. Inca soon found herself quite tipsy, but still managed to keep her wits about her. She ached for a dance, and when one of the partygoers, a member of Leia's house, asked her to stand with him, she saw no problem with accepting.

It was only a dance, after all.

As she was twirled about the floor, she smiled and laughed, the alcohol making her more jovial, less inhibited. Her partner was a decent dancer, and she was having fun.

But just as she was passing one of the tables, she spied Drogo and saw his face. His expression was carefully blank, but Inca knew him. The telltale twitch to the muscle in his jaw, and the slight wrinkle between his brows told of his displeasure.

Trying to assuage his anger, Inca took a moment to blow him a kiss. He gave her a slight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before she was twirled in a different direction.

Drogo felt helpless. _He_ should be the one dancing with Inca, not that Goldenmane fop. He could not quit his post until he was relieved however, so all he could do was watch, when all he wanted to do was snatch her from that interloper's arms.

Truthfully though, his heart was a little bothered by the fact that Inca had so readily accepted the dance in the first place.

He knew it was childish, but she belonged to him. It was wrong for her to let another male embrace her, and he wondered at her inability to understand that. He tried to keep from scowling, from letting his face betray his bitter jealousy.

When the dance ended, the lion had walked her back to her seat, and she had smiled at him and thanked him before sitting down. He had even kissed her hand!

Drogo's frown deepened, his growl sending a server scurrying quickly away from him. If _he_ had done as much, she would have scowled at him for being too forward in public.

When Leia approached Inca, the two embraced, and began talking in excited tones, exclaiming over Cheetara's dress and other qualities of the ceremony.

So engrossed in the conversation was she, it seemed Inca had forgotten all about Drogo.

_Maybe she has_, he thought huffily. Maybe she was happy that he was on guard and out of her hair. She didn't seem to like his affection when they were around others anyway.

As a matter of fact, throughout their whole relationship, it seemed _he_ was the one who outwardly cared, the one who was willing to express his enthusiasm for the time they spent with each other _outside_ of the bedroom, time that was often hard to come by with their duties.

His moments with her were therefore very precious to him. _She_ was precious to him.

Inca was a passionate, pleasing lover in bed, to be sure. But Drogo had soon discovered, to his great surprise, that the sex was only one of the aspects he loved about this female, and not even what he loved most.

He could actually carry on an intelligent conversation with her, which was highly important. She was on par with some of the best philosophers when it came to poetry, astrology, and other such subjects. Her ferocity and often tenuous hold on her temper belied her intelligence, added intrigue.

She had a soft side as well. It wasn't something she showed often, and certainly not intentionally, but it was there. There was so much that interested him about her, and on the occasions when they could spend time together, he enjoyed drawing those hidden parts of her out.

But she didn't really seem to be all that into him, at least not out from behind closed doors. She was attentive, but…that need, that _addiction_ to being together just didn't seem to be there as it was for him. It wounded Drogo to think he was just a plaything, a pastime for her while she stayed in Thundera.

He felt a pain in his chest when he thought that perhaps he would have to say goodbye to her soon. Maybe she was just biding her time until after her lady and Prince Lion-O were mated. Then…perhaps she would take her leave, bound for other adventures, other males.

It wasn't a pleasant thought, and when next he looked upon Inca she was still deep in conversation, this time with Leia and Lion-O. _She's not even thinking about me._

Perhaps all this time together was for naught. Her indifference gave him no encouragement at all, not enough to be secure in his hold on her. Perhaps…perhaps it was time for him to distance himself so he would not be hurt when the time came to part from her.

He decided then and there that he would pull back. It was all he could do to protect his heart, and his pride, as he was never one to fall so easily or thoroughly before. As the party wore on, he maintained a façade of calm, detaching himself from his emotions as best he could.

Leia and Inca were laughing about some joke that Lion-O had made. The prince could be very funny when he wanted to, even with the stresses inheriting a kingdom entailed. Inca found she quite liked the young lion, and was sure that Leia had finally found someone to make her happy.

She only hoped he remained so after the yolk of the monarchy was placed on him.

She glanced over her shoulder at Drogo, still standing guard. She stared, hoping to catch his eye as she had many times before. But he never looked her way. Actually, he never looked _any_ way. He just stared forward, as stoic as any Soldier she'd ever seen.

Inca had never seen him so blank. He was usually so animated and happy. Now, he just stood there, eyes forward, feet shoulder-width apart, his arms behind his back. He didn't as much as glance her way.

Something was wrong.

Maybe it was her dance with the other male. She knew that Drogo's feelings for her had gotten more intense, and he had since developed the possessive attitude that most male cats took on when they regarded a female as mate material.

Her feelings had grown for him as well, although she was not as apt to show it as he was. She preferred to show him her affection when they were alone.

Moreover, she had learned a long time ago that showing too much too quickly, or to the wrong male could cause…unintended consequences.

So she had taken it slow, basking in the attentions she was given. As time went on, she recognized her feelings for what they were and decided she would stay by Drogo's side, regardless of where her lady went. This was all of course, if he wanted her. She was still unsure, despite everything.

She was always wary, because she had experienced how a male could deceptively act one way while feeling completely another.

It had been a difficult time, one she had nearly not recovered from.

With Leia and Lion-O having made a secure match, the welfare of her friend was assured. Even now the Clerics and palace guards were taking on the responsibility of guarding her, the prince's future consort. She no longer needed Inca in that capacity.

That freed the jaguar up for more pleasing, fulfilling exploits. It had taken her a long while after the trauma she had suffered in her youth to love someone. But she'd finally found one she believed she could trust.

Drogo never lied to her or tried to manipulate her to gain the upper hand in their relationship. He had always given her control, had let her set the pace for everything and determine when and where they would meet.

She had appreciated this immensely, and slowly but surely she had found herself very much in love with Drogo. She wanted to tell him, and there was no better time than tonight, with its romantic ambiance.

But she could sense that all was not well, and soon her mind was busy trying to figure out why.

Drogo continued to stand guard, his mind lost in thought, getting more and more disenchanted with his seemingly hopeless situation.

Curse the day he had followed that female to her room! He'd be his normal confident self tonight if he hadn't, instead of standing here, angry and insecure.

He just didn't understand. He had tried to do what she had wanted, followed her pace with things.

He had sensed that this was very important to Inca, that he would have lost her if he had tried to smother her too much. So he had taken it easy with her, because he also sensed that her reasons were probably from events in her past, events that were perhaps painful.

But he felt that they had been together long enough for her to trust him with her past. Honestly, he really didn't know much about her as far as her cubhood and clan history.

They just hadn't talked much about it. Drogo, on the other hand, had been completely open after a time, telling her everything he could think of about himself and his family.

If she really cared, really saw him as other than a provider of sex, she would have told him by now, surely.

But she hadn't, and the lion's jaw clenched when he thought on it.

So reluctantly, it was decided. Drogo had no intention of staying with a female whose heart would never be his. He loved her, regarded her more than he'd done any other, but he had to protect his own happiness as well.

And having her away from him when he treasured her so much was too painful a thought to fathom. But he would get over it, in time.

His resolve chased his sadness away, but made way for more anger. _What a fool I've been_, he thought. He had stayed as close to her as he could, craving her touch like an addiction, and all the time she'd shown next to _nothing_ in response.

He thought of the Clerics, of his _family_, who had surely noticed him acting like a lovesick adolescent. How embarrassing to have everyone see him behaving as such, and with a female who obviously _wasn't_ interested.

He was a lion of the great Blackmane clan, a reputable and proud line who had missed the monarchy by mere inches. He could name a whole flock of females who would be delighted to be his _whore_, let alone his mate. Why should he debase himself so?

His furrowed brow attracted the attention of a passing Eva, who was coming from the hors d'oeuvres table without her usual entourage behind her.

"Why the ugly face, Drogo?" she asked, her usual saccharine sweet tone stinging his ears. She clicked her teeth in a show of mock concern. "Aw, did you get pulled for duty?" She followed his gaze, which had reflexively moved to look at Inca.

"Or perhaps it's something…else?" Her lips pulled up into a nasty grin. "Don't tell me that _filth_ finally dumped you. Ha! And to think you defended her so adamantly. Fool! It serves you right. You should have known that refuse would—"

She was stopped by the deep, ominous growl that emanated from the Cleric. His gaze was no longer on his lover, but on Eva, the intensity of his cold stare quickly cowing her. Drogo fought the urge to lift his lip and flash huge, ivory fangs at her.

Instead, he warned her, his voice quietly menacing. "Take your seat, girl, before I make you _eat_ those words."

Eva, showing that she did at least have _some_ sense, quickly made her way back to her seat and the safety of her immediate family.

Tamping down his anger, Drogo heaved a sigh. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Soon everyone would be aware of his and Inca's split, _if_ they split. He really loved her, wanted to be with her for always.

But it all depended on her now. He was done making the lion's share of the effort in this relationship. He just couldn't do it anymore.

As the partygoers began filtering out to prepare for the departure of the couple, the room rapidly emptied. Inca tarried, trying to get a moment to talk privately with her disgruntled lover.

He was still standing there, stone-faced as ever. She wanted to go to him, but Leia was motioning for her to come along with her and her family, so she followed, resolving to speak with Drogo as soon as she could.

Once all of the guests had vacated the main banquet hall, Drogo and his fellow Clerics did so as well. They were met by Jaga, who told the group they were welcomed to participate in seeing the couple off.

By the time Drogo made it outside, Tygra and Cheetara were standing next to a couple of Monteracs, preparing to leave. Cheetara had just thrown her bouquet, which the young lynx Talli had caught with great glee.

Drogo made his way to Inca, moving to stand beside her. Perhaps when things concluded, they could finally talk.

As everyone watched, Tygra deftly removed Cheetara's garter belt, moving a little ways away to throw it toward the crowd. The prince smiled as he turned his back, tossing the garter high above his head.

Drogo lifted his eyes. It was coming straight toward him! He had but to lift his hand and the garter fell into it as easily as if Tygra had thrown it directly to him by design. Lifting his prize high, the lion smirked at the other males then looked down at Inca.

She spied the garter in his claws and gave him a reproachful look. Surely he didn't think this little bit of lingerie could erase all of their obvious problems?

Before she could make a remark however, she found her mouth otherwise engaged as Drogo swept her up into an especially intimate kiss, right there for all to see. Inca started to resist, but the taste of him, the smell of him, all of it flooded her senses, and her eyes shut all on their own.

She only snapped out of it when some of the onlookers started clapping and whistling at them. At that point, her eyes flew open again, and she pushed Drogo off of her slightly, their lips separating with a loud, embarrassing smack.

"Why would you do that?!" she whispered angrily, feeling awkward and exposed. She stepped away, her eyes down. Her cheeks were burning. She didn't like advertising their relationship in front of everyone.

Drogo leaned in close, his own anger resurfacing. "Why would I not?" he ground out. "You are _mine_, aren't you?"

Before she could answer or even look at him, the lion had departed, moving away from her through the small crowd.

Inca was at a loss. This was not what she had wanted! They were supposed to talk, not end up even more at odds with each other. She moved quickly to stop his departure.

"Drogo!" she called, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please stop!" But he kept walking, muttering under his breath. She was able to make out the words 'troublesome female,' but that was all.

"Is this about the dance?" she finally asked, trying to keep up with the lion's large strides. "Did it really bother you so?" She nearly collided hard with Drogo's back when he came to an abrupt halt.

He turned to her, indignation and disbelief written in his features. "Is that really what you think this is about, Inca?" He stared at her for a moment, then scoffed, nearly smiling before his face went blank again. She really had no clue.

"It's a pity, that," the lion muttered as he shouldered past his chagrined lover. "To think you would believe our problem stems from something as petty as a _dance_." He began walking away.

This time, she let him go. He obviously did not wish to speak with her, and she would not force him. But the look on his face...she just couldn't get it out of her head. She'd never thought he would look at _her_ that way.

He had actually been disgusted with her, _by_ her.

Inca was left to herself in the cheering crowd as the prince and his new mate rode off to enjoy alone time together. She looked around when everyone started to disperse, but the Cleric was nowhere to be found.

Now she was worried. Drogo had been really mad. She needed to go to him and fix this, now.

"Inca?" Leia inquired, placing a hand on her friend's back. She'd never seen the jaguaress look so distressed before. "Is everything alright?"

"Um…it's fine, Leia," Inca replied, pasting an awkward smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. She looked around again, still not finding the one she wanted to see so desperately. She could think of nothing else. "I just have to find someone is all."

"Then go," Leia said as Lion-O came to join her. "Go to him. It would seem you both have much to work out." Understanding was clear in the lioness' eyes, and Inca thanked her before heading off.

_Where could he have gone?_ Inca backtracked into the banquet hall, back outside and to one side of the lane leading to where the new couple had left, but could not find him. Maybe he had gone back to Cleric Hall? Everyone had all but dispersed by now, so it was a possibility.

She turned in the direction of the Hall, fully intending to storm the building in search of Drogo. She simply could not leave things this way.

As she was walking a scent came to her nose, an odd scent. Her nose scrunched with it, noting that it was vaguely familiar but different.

She was passing a garden area near the palace infirmary when the scent seemed much stronger. More importantly, she could smell Drogo here as well. Curiosity led her from her original path, and she walked toward what appeared to be a gazebo.

Just as she followed the path around some climbing roses, she saw him. His mane came into view first, his back toward her. She started to smile, to call to him when it became apparent that he wasn't alone.

He was currently being fondled and cheek rubbed by another female, a panther from the looks of her sleek, ebony coloring. She wore a Cleric uniform as well. Inca could hear her purring from where she stood, just out of sight but within hearing distance.

"Come now, Drogo, what's the matter?" the panther cooed. "It's not like we haven't before, and I need you to help me." She shimmied closer, cheek rubbing him again.

"It's becoming…uncomfortable, and I don't want Jaga to have me locked up. We both know it's the quickest way to end it." She ran her hands up his broad chest, stringing her fingers up into his mane. "_Give me relief_," she crooned.

Inca's eyes narrowed in on Drogo's hands, which were grasping the female Cleric's hips. He didn't seem to be completely against her advances, his eyes closed, his brows furrowed in a half tortured, half ecstatic expression.

Inca could feel the hair along her spine rise in wrath. How _dare_ he be tempted?!

"I can't, Isis," Drogo muttered, his teeth grinding together as he tried to maintain self-control. He was trying to use his hands to keep the black leopardess at arm's length, but her scent was driving him crazy, sliding up his nose, tantalizing his brain and awakening his nether regions.

She had intercepted him on his way back to the Hall, pulling him aside, saying she needed his assistance with something.

It was only when they had gotten alone that he had realized her "problem." Isis was coming into heat, and was just entering the most uncomfortable stage for both her _and_ any males she would encounter.

The intoxicating scent was unmistakable, and if he didn't get away from her quickly, he was in danger of infidelity, whether he wanted to or not. Yes, he was angry with Inca, but he did not want to betray her, never that.

So with his control rapidly waning, and his instincts shouting at him to do quite the opposite, Drogo set the randy female away from him, forcing himself to be firm.

"I said _no_, Isis. Find someone else to provide you with…relief, or go lock yourself up." His harsh breaths, and the snug fit of his breeches, were contradicting his words, but he was proud of his resistance as he turned to leave.

When he stepped onto the path leading away from the gazebo however, Inca's scent slammed into him. It was so strong that she had to have been there, if only just a few moments ago…when he was being groped by a certain female Cleric.

_No_, he thought, his legs moving him quickly to the main path, trying to see if Inca was here. He had to explain.

But she was nowhere to be found. She must have run out of there quickly, which could only mean she was upset.

Drogo shook his head with a sigh, looking toward the castle. Should he go to see her now, after he had come down so hard on her back there _and_ the scene she'd just obviously witnessed?

With a heavy heart, he resumed his return to the Hall. He knew she would have nothing to do with him tonight. She was probably extremely angry, thinking he had serviced Isis.

Maybe he could talk with her tomorrow, first thing. Hopefully she would see him. She _would_ see him, and he would explain things, and they would talk.

They would finally iron out any issues between them. They had to.

His nagging mind plagued him as he entered his quarters. _But what if she _won't_ see me?_ he thought to himself. _What if this was too much to forgive? What if she is done with me?_

Drogo lay in his bed far into the night, thinking about what his life would be like without Inca.

He just couldn't bring himself to imagine it. Such an existence was so empty, devoid of meaning. It just could not happen. So he went to his rest vowing he would make things right.

He would find Inca,_ force_ her to speak with him if he must, tomorrow. Then they could reconcile and be happy, together.

He did not foresee that his plans would be thwarted.


	2. Apprehension

**(Thundercats 2011)**

**Volume I – Drogo x Inca**

**********A/N - This will be a short chapter. Sorry, but the next will be considerably longer, seeing as we will find out about Inca's past and the outcome of that knowledge. Hope this chapter is still enjoyable. Please read and review. Thanks!**

**********DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thundercats or have any affiliation with the creators, producers, etc., nor do I receive any compensation for this work.**

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**Chapter 2 – Apprehension**

It was two weeks later, and Inca was miserable. She had seen nothing of Drogo since the gazebo incident. How could he have stayed away from her this long? Didn't he know she was empty without him?

It was difficult to leave her bed each morning. The longing to catch just a glimpse of him was overwhelming.

Was that panther whore's charm really that addictive? Just the thought of that sordid scene made her angry all over again. How could he have put his hands on another female?

Yes, they had their problems. But that was no excuse to just go and bed someone else, and right after their argument on top of that!

In her heart of hearts, Inca held hope that Drogo would not betray her, but some fear remained that she was wrong, that she had underestimated his devotion to her. She had been mistaken before.

Males were males after all, just as cats were cats, and that Cleric had been all but throwing herself at Drogo, mewling like a wanton slut.

Of course, nearly all females in heat behaved as such eventually, Inca included. But the jaguar wasn't interested in that at the moment.

The point was that the average male would be hard put to ignore such an effortless sexual opportunity.

But then again, Drogo was not the average male. She had to believe he hadn't done it. He couldn't have!

But why had he not come to her?

All she wanted was to have him back. She could forgive him, whatever had happened, if he would just come back to her. Never had Inca been brought to such a low.

She had moped about these two weeks, a fraction of her true self. She had tried to occupy her time, working on fighting forms with Leia and borrowing books from the royal library. Said books collected dust, untouched.

She had even taken a trip down to the city to see what she could find to amuse herself. What did the Thunderian citizens do for fun?

But her footsteps had unconsciously taken her to Cleric Hall, and when Inca had noticed, she had retreated back to the palace, sulking in her room to think Drogo could be so heavily on her mind while she apparently was _not_ on his.

Leia had noticed her odd behaviors and had actually gotten annoyed with her for letting her pride keep her from going to sort this whole business out with the Cleric.

The lioness had even threatened not to speak to her again if she didn't fix it, _now_.

So Inca humbled herself. She would put both her pride and heart on the line to salvage their relationship. She would finally tell him everything. Maybe then he would understand her, and her ways, more completely.

Then maybe they could just be together and move on from all this.

Her search started in the palace, which she found crawling with Clerics. Of course, none of them was the one she wanted. It would have been too easy.

She then made her way to the grounds, passing the gazebo. She swallowed the remnants of her disgust and anger to continue looking.

At last she found herself at Cleric Hall. When she knocked, who should answer but the very female she had found fondling her lover, and the _last_ cat in Thundera Inca wanted to see.

It was all very awkward, but Inca bore it all well, maintaining eye contact confidently and keeping her tone neutral. "I'm searching for Drogo. Have you seen him?" _Other than when you had your _paws_ all over him, _she thought waspishly.

She honestly did not know what she would do if the two Clerics were together now. She waited with baited breath for the panther's answer.

Isis blinked dumbly before gathering her wits about her. "Drogo is in the gardens. And you would be…" she considered the jaguar for a moment before lifting an eyebrow, realization lighting her eyes. "Ah. You would be the reason he _refused_ my offer."

She looked Inca over, leaning against the door lazily, making her feel even more exposed.

"I suppose I can understand, although I've known Drogo a long time. He's never turned me down before." She considered Inca a moment longer. "But we all meet someone at some time that blinds us to all others."

The Cleric played her fingers along the intricate designs on the door thoughtfully. When she looked back into Inca's face, a light smile lit her lips. "He is still there, but he probably won't be for long. He has just returned from a lengthy assignment, and is surely exhausted."

The panther straightened her stance. "Go. You may want to get there before he retires for the night, and you miss him."

With that, the Hall's doors were closed to Inca. She wasted no time, her feet quickly carrying her to the gardens. It was a great relief that Drogo had not done anything with that female.

It was even more so that he had not stayed from her voluntarily. She had to remember that he was a Cleric first, after all.

At first, she could see no one. But as she walked further in, she finally located him, sitting on a bench under a trellis covered in large, white moonflowers just beginning to open with the approaching evening.

The scene was serene, but the dark lion's mind was anything but peaceful, if his expression was any indication. His mouth was turned down in a frown, his brow creased.

As Inca stepped closer, she heard him sigh, as though he were in deep thought about something unpleasant. _Surely he's not thinking of me_, she thought, half way hopeful.

Drogo was lost in his own world, turning many a scenario over in his mind's eye. How could he possibly hope to approach Inca now that so much time had passed?

She probably wanted nothing to do with him by now. She wasn't the kind of female one kept waiting, not when it was this important.

It had been greatly upsetting when he had risen the day following the Isis incident to be immediately summoned to speak with Jaga. He had been informed that he and his partner, Jorel would be placed on an assignment as ambassadors to the surrounding kingdoms.

The king had heard of possible threats to Thundera in the form of their long-time enemies, the lizards. If the description given by the scouts was true, the threat was of a magnitude that would require more military might than the cats currently had.

It was logical to try and mend ties between the realms, since such a powerful enemy could eventually target not only the cats, but everyone.

Not to mention, it would be a horrendous development if the other animal kingdoms were to band together in league with the lizards to take down the cat kingdom. It was not an impossibility.

So Jaga had dispatched Drogo and Jorel to parley and make detailed lists of what each kingdom required aid in. They accomplished these tasks, and brought back all the information they could for King Claudus and his military staff to review.

They would determine if the kingdom could afford the aid each realm requested. But aid would only be given upon sworn allegiances from the rulers of each kingdom. It was the only way to ensure loyalty, and possible reinforcements, should they be needed.

That had been all well and good, but the whole mission had taken a little less than two weeks to accomplish, and only because Drogo had rushed!

By the time the two Clerics had returned, they had been so weary, they had both fallen into their beds, prepared to give their report this morning.

So yet more time had elapsed since Drogo had last seen Inca. His muscles still ached, and he could do with more sleep, but she was in the forefront of his mind, and he would not be able to truly rest comfortably until this matter was finished, one way or the other.

He continued thinking, debating on a strategy. Perhaps a forceful approach, where he had a conversation with her without accepting a refusal, would yield better results.

Or maybe he could purchase some flowers and use charm as a tactic. No, she wouldn't go for that, not if she was as angry as he thought she was.

He finally decided to just stick with the basics and go to her; whatever way the conversation occurred, that's how it would be. A discussion was long overdue, so it made no sense delaying.

He had resolved himself when suddenly, the most wonderful, addictive scent assaulted his nose, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. A small smile graced his lips as he turned to look on the face he'd seen only in his dreams every night since he'd nearly lost her.

Inca approached slowly, wondering if she should disturb him. He had just come back from a hard journey. Maybe she should wait until he had rested.

He must have sensed her coming, because he suddenly looked up and turned, his face blooming into the most beautiful smile she had ever seen for the briefest moment, before becoming more guarded, unsure.

"Hello," Inca said tentatively, trying her best not to smile too giddily. She had missed him so much, it was difficult not to run to him, but she didn't want to seem too forward. "I have been looking for you."

Drogo tried to keep the eagerness from his face. To have her appear after he'd just been thinking about her was more than he could ask for. He had missed her so much.

He had wondered if he'd ever see her again, if she was even still in Thundera after what she'd seen, and if she'd even talk to him if she was. The enthusiastic need to see her had been such a stifling presence in his breast.

Now she was here, and he felt tongue-tied.

"Were you now?" he finally blurted, a slight blush lighting his cheeks. "That's nice."

_"That's nice?"_ Inca thought, trying to hide her growing nervousness. "Yes, I was. I wanted to- _needed_ to see you."

She wrung her hands without realizing it, unaccustomed to nervous behavior. "I remember how we parted, and I really want to talk to you…about everything. I saw you with that other Cleric, and -"

"_Nothing_ happened with her," Drogo interrupted before he could stop himself. He had to make sure that at the least, she knew that. "I know you were there. I know what you probably saw. But I promise you, I refused her."

The relief was instantaneous, to hear the words from his own lips, so much so that Inca closed her eyes to let it soak in. When she opened them again, the look on Drogo's face, the _longing_, was unmistakable before he was able to fix his face.

Inca thought it charming to see him try to hide that vulnerable part of himself, just as she was, even though there was no need for it. She would never use it against him, and now she knew he could be trusted as well.

For now, she just needed to be nearer to him.

She stepped closer, moving until she was a couple steps in front of him, until her senses could immerse themselves in him.

She was comforted by his familiar scent, and it made her more confident. She got straight to the point. "I've been cold to you, Drogo," she said regretfully.

She shook her head when he made to deny her words. "No. Just listen. I _have_ been cold to you, less affectionate, even though I feel more for you than I've ever felt for anyone."

She finally closed the distance between them to place her hand on his powerful chest, his heart beating solidly against her palm. She looked at the wide expanse of his chest, barely restrained beneath his Clerical uniform.

She watched it rise and fall, unable to meet the smoky moss of his eyes, lest she lose her newfound courage to talk about what she had always kept hidden, locked away all these years in the recesses of her mind.

"It's amazing that you have remained with me still," she continued. "Because I must say that has not been the case in the past. You are not the only male who has balked at my aloofness."

Drogo watched his lover closely. Truth be told, he had nearly pounced on her when he'd felt her feather light touch on the center of his chest. How he had missed her hands upon him!

But he could tell this was something important, something she needed to get out of her system. He wasn't sure what it was specifically, but the somber look in her eyes told him she needed his attention, not his ardor.

He placed a large hand over hers, caressing it with his thumb. "I will listen, love," he murmured. When she stared at their hands, as if dazed, he used his other to tilt her chin, lifting her face to his, meeting her emerald eyes, suddenly finding himself drawn in by them.

The silence was thick with anticipation and tension. The slightest movement ignited the two, and before either realized it, they were kissing.

Drogo's misgivings were forgotten as his arms wrapped about Inca, drawing her closer still into the shelter of his body. Her hands were busy as well, twining themselves up around his neck, her claws grasping his mane as if they'd missed the feel of him.

She had. Oh, how she had.

So involved with the kiss were they, that neither saw the young Cleric who approached the couple. He straightened his voice once, twice, trying to get their attention while keeping his burning face averted. Finally, the poor thing let out an exaggerated cough.

Drogo and Inca were caught completely off guard, and they jumped apart like adolescents. The lion regained his composure quickly and turned to their visitor standing in front of his lover, unashamed.

He grabbed her hand, as if he was afraid she would disappear without maintaining some tactile contact.

He looked pointedly at the messenger, a young wildcat, green eyes flashing his annoyance.

"Um, Mentor, I-I bear a summons from Master Jaga," he stammered, cowed by the big lion's gaze. "He wants to see you before you retire for the night…something about needing you to elaborate on a part of your report."

Drogo gave a frustrated sigh. Was his Mentor _trying_ to ruin his relationship?! He pulled Inca, who was silently laughing at his bemused expression, closer to his body. "Fine," he finally said. "Tell him I will be along shortly."

He tried to keep the growl from his voice, not wanting to further frighten the young one. It wasn't his fault after all.

The wildcat ran off, all too happy to be away from the large, annoyed Cleric. Drogo looked down at Inca, regret written all over his face. "I am so sorry, love."

She smiled at him. "It's okay. Really, it is. I know you must go when Jaga calls. How about we meet in my quarters tomorrow evening? I will tell you everything then. For tonight, rest. Despite what you may say, you have traveled far, and you need to sleep."

He brushed his lips across hers, resting his forehead against hers. "Sounds like a plan. I promise you, I _will_ be there." He reluctantly let her go. She sat down to enjoy the garden a little longer, waving to him as he departed.

Once Drogo was gone, Inca sighed. Perhaps it was good that they had been interrupted. She didn't know how she was going to tell him…about all that happened so long ago.

But tell him she would.

At least now she had time to think about how to do so and to relax in the concept of reliving those painful events again, albeit in memory.

But solitude also allowed her to meditate on the possible consequences. What would Drogo think of her once he knew?

Would he be brought closer to her in this knowledge, or would it repel him to know how damaged she was? How would she tell him?

Inca wrapped her arms around herself sitting in the desolate garden, suddenly cold. Gooseflesh rose along the dusting of hair along her limbs when she considered the most important question.

Would he still love her?


	3. Recollection

**(Thundercats 2011)**

**Volume I – Drogo x Inca**

**A/N - So this is the chapter that tells what happened to Inca. There is a graphic part that may bother some, so I will mark where it starts and where it ends so you will have the option to read it or not. It should not impact your understanding of the chapter at all.**

**Also, jaguars are native to central and south America (formerly North America), and I thought it appropriate to have a little Meso-American language in this chapter. I chose to use Nahuatl, the language of the Nahua and other clans back in the time when Quetzalcoatl was worshiped. I thought it would be a nice touch. Hope you guys do too. Please let me know what you think.**

* * *

**NAHUATL TRANSLATIONS:**

**xochitl - flower**

**tatzintli - father**

**cihuanton - little girl**

**pipiotzin - little chicken**

**icnehua- sister**

**Anyway, please read and review!**

**************DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thundercats or have any affiliation with the creators, producers, etc., nor do I receive any compensation for this work.**

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Recollection**

_5 years ago, Mazatlàn province, 600 miles south of the kingdom of Thundera..._

Inca gazed at herself in the mirror, smiling as her maidservant finished the final touches on the gown she was wearing. Her family was preparing to depart for a special event, one that could affect the rest of her life.

It was the annual Gathering of the Clans, where all Jaguar families joined together to meet, greet, and have fun with one another. There was food, entertainment, and joviality throughout.

More importantly, it was an opportunity for young, unattached cats to meet one another and possibly form connections that led to matings.

This was at the forefront of Inca's mind as she made one final check of her appearance, gathered her cloak, and met her parents as they boarded a carriage for the trip to the Gathering grounds.

Her parents, Horace and Erzine, were clothed in their own finery, and started going over proper etiquette with Inca and her two younger siblings.

Her brother, Chupa, fidgeted in his seat, unaccustomed to wearing such clothing. He had not wanted to go, but their father would hear no excuses. As the heir of the Nahua clan, the black jaguar was expected to show his face at the event, even if it was not his time to select a mate just yet.

That would occur in two years, when he reached the age of maturity of 17 summers.

Inca, having turned the age this year, was beside herself with excitement. She had been looking forward to this for quite some time, as her family had seen no point of attending without a proper candidate. This would be her first time.

She felt like an adult now, able to contribute to her clan's success. This was her time to shine.

She was also looking forward to seeing all the handsome, eligible males that would attend. Would any of them fancy her?

As the family's carriage pulled up, porters appeared to help the females down. Inca's eyes grew round when she looked on the grounds. She'd never seen so many cats in one place!

There had to have been hundreds of jaguars gathered here, enjoying all the food, performances, games, and social activities. She was suddenly so excited, as was her sister, Maya, who hopped out of the carriage and linked her arm with Inca's.

"Let's go over to that caramel apple stand!" she said excitedly. The two females looked to their father, who nodded, sending them off laughing to the vendor.

Chupa followed quietly. He hoped to glean some amusement from this whole charade, and maybe he would find it by sticking by his sisters.

Horace and Erzine studied their children as they left. Both hoped that all three would someday make fine matches with mates from reputable clans. Inca was Horace's favorite, and he put much of his hopes and prayers on her, even though Chupa was his heir.

She was so much like him, even took his golden coloration. Chupa favored his mother, having the same sleek, shiny black coat she wore with pride. But he lacked the drive and ferocity that Inca had for doing his duty for his clan.

That would be a detriment to a clan already struggling with issues, and Horace was determined that at least one of his offspring would make a good match. He would see who Inca would show interest in.

Should she choose someone of value, he would happily endorse a mating. If not, he would be compelled to discourage her from making a connection using whatever tactic was necessary. Horace truly loved Inca, valued her happiness beyond measure.

He just valued the prosperity of his clan more, and he refused to let them fall over senseless emotions.

As he escorted his mate to the jewelry vendor, Horace hoped that Inca realized how important that was, and that she would someday forgive him if he had to take action.

Inca and Maya strolled along, their arms intertwined with Chupa's, leading their reluctant but slowly getting enthusiastic brother to some of the gaming tables set up throughout the Gathering.

Their chit chat and happy demeanors slowly brought a smile to his face. When they approached a table, Chupa engaged, showing his lightly competitive side when Maya joined him.

Inca watched them, glad that her siblings were enjoying themselves. She had feared that they, being below mating age, would spurn coming, thinking that Inca was taking up all the attention. Thankfully, that fear was unnecessary.

Petty jealousy was not something the siblings engaged in. Each knew their place, and that was fine with them. But both Chupa and Maya knew that Inca was highly favored by their father, and that great things were expected of her.

Inca sometimes worried that her brother and sister would not feel as appreciated, so she made every effort to uplift and validate them in their home. As a result, the three were closer than ever.

This is quite an event, Inca thought to herself, surveying the busy scene. She hoped to at least have a good time, even if she did not find someone to mate with. She was just happy to be out and about with her family.

She made her way to a table with small novelties and baubles, favorites of hers. As she ran her fingers over a particularly beautiful arm bangle, she felt a presence just before a velvety, deep voice spoke.

"It's almost as beautiful as you are," the voice, clearly male, said. Inca turned to find a very tall, very handsome young male jaguar standing next to her. His eyes were a golden brown and staring intently at her.

Inca took a small step back. His gaze was very direct, penetrating even, and it intimidated her a bit. He must have understood this, as he smiled, lowering his eyes as he bowed.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to come off as too forward. I am Tuco of the Tlaloc clan. I just happened to see you over here admiring these items, and I wanted to make your acquaintance." He reached out a hand.

Inca, still somewhat wary but never rude, placed her smaller hand in his, and watched as he brought it to his mouth, kissing it lightly. His lips were soft, warm, and the feeling was not that objectionable to her.

"I am Inca," she stated, trying to keep the nerves from her voice. "I am of the Nahua clan. It is a pleasure to meet you." She curtseyed slightly, as her mother had taught her.

"The pleasure is all mine, of course," Tuco said, smiling again. "Would you like to walk with me? I am partaking of all the Gathering has to offer, and I would be honored if you would join me."

Inca considered her siblings, but when she glanced their way, the two were still very wrapped up in their games. Tuco seemed very well-spoken and polite. Surely it would not hurt to accompany him.

So she nodded her assent. "Lead on then."

The two spent the next two hours walking amongst the stalls, exhibits, and games, talking with one another about their families, goals, and each other. Inca found herself becoming more and more comfortable with Tuco. Perhaps he was the one she was looking for?

As the evening wore on, more of the guests left for the night, and it soon became apparent that things were wrapping up. Tuco made a point to escort Inca back toward her family, which had assembled back near their carriage.

When the couple appeared, Horace narrowed his eyes. Who was this young male who obviously had his sights set on his daughter? He knew nearly every clan in the province. Perhaps this one had evaded him.

Inca came close, urging Tuco to follow. "Papa, Mama, this is Tuco. He is a new friend I met here." She went on to introduce her siblings.

Tuco stepped forward with a bow. "I am very pleased to meet all of you. Inca has spoken very highly of her family."

"Indeed," said Horace. "I was wondering if Inca would meet anyone to her liking here tonight. From what clan do you come?" Horace assessed Tuco, his face neutral. Inca sighed. _Here we go._

Tuco smiled. "I am of the Tlaloc clan, sir," he answered, noting the clenching of Horace's jaw, the budding condescension in his eyes. So it was to be _that_ way, was it? Tuco maintained his demeanor, despite his brewing resentment.

His family was of low ranking, true, but things changed. As the heir of his clan, it was up to him to propel his family on a course to rise within the ranks of the higher clans. Mating the Nahua girl would be one step closer to doing just that.

Her dowry alone would bring his family great wealth. It also helped that she was beautiful. It would be most difficult for him to produce offspring with an ugly female. He needed someone who could tempt his carnal appetites as well as give him strong sons.

Inca seemed to fit the description, and when he had spied her browsing amongst the vendor stands, he had resolved to possess her and the affluence she would bring. It was a win-win situation.

So her father would turn his nose up at him? That would be no obstacle, for he would get to the Nahua clan through their daughter. He would have her heart in his grasp, would mate her secretly if need be. Then there would be nothing her father or anyone could do.

For once a female bore a male's mark, she lawfully belonged only to him. Ceremonies were performed purely for pomp and circumstance.

So he smiled and bowed and catered to Horace's snobbery. When the time came for Inca to board the carriage and travel home, Tuco took her aside.

"Will you meet with me again sometime, say tomorrow in the square?" He used his most dazzling smile. He needed to work on her as soon as possible.

Inca took a breath to answer but was interrupted by Horace. "Inca will be otherwise engaged. Come, Inca. We must be off." His tone brooked no objection.

Inca sighed. But she turned to Tuco and whispered to him. "I will send you a letter. We will meet again." She smiled as she left him, climbing in.

Horace cast a menacing glance at Tuco before he too entered. As the carriage rode out of sight, Tuco smirked. He hoped to hear from Inca soon.

* * *

Inca snuck off the grounds of her family's home, excitement and anticipation competing in her heart. She and Tuco were meeting one another at what had become their special place. Not even her siblings knew of it.

They had been meeting secretly for some three weeks now, getting to know one another. Tuco was such a charming, thoughtful male, and Inca honestly felt herself getting more and more attached to him.

She felt as if just maybe he could be the one she had been looking for at the Gathering, like it was their fate to be together. Who'd have thought it would be so easy to find the perfect mate?

She found him in his usual spot, waiting for her. "There you are," he said as she approached. The two embraced, and Tuco nuzzled her neck, taking in her scent, as was his usual greeting. It made her skin tingle to be so close.

Just the other night, the two had shared their first kiss. He has not rushed her, and when it finally happened, it had been magical. Perhaps she was already in love with him? Inca was not completely sure, but if she was not, she was very close.

They sat and talked, eating the food that Tuco had brought. They each took turns bringing refreshments when they would meet, sharing their precious time together.

Tuco snuggled closer to her, bringing an arm around her waist. The food, long eaten and forgotten, was no longer on his mind.

Inca felt her cheeks warm. Lately, Tuco had been getting more comfortable and forward with his advances, touching her in ways that were probably inappropriate. Usually a chaperone would be present when a young couple was courting, but their situation was different.

Her father was adamant that she shift her interests elsewhere. The Tlaloc clan was unsuitable for _his_ daughter, he had fumed. But Inca had been able to think of no other. Tuco was the one who haunted her dreams and thoughts. She wanted _him_.

So she allowed his caresses, his whispered words in her ear. She felt the first stirrings of arousal, and wondered at the heady feeling. Tilting her head to the side, she yielded to his lips and tongue.

Tuco smiled inwardly. She was almost his; he could feel it. Her arousal was a tangy scent against her skin. Soon, he could mate her here, secretly, and when she returned home with his mark, her family would have no choice but to allow their union or face disgrace.

Perhaps, he could do so tonight? His patience was getting harder and harder to adhere to. How far would she go?

His hand moved to her thigh, covered by the dress she wore. He found the slit in the side, and moved his fingers just inside the fabric. Inca did not seem to notice, enthralled by his skillful mouth at her throat, his purring in her ears.

So it wasn't until his hand had moved up to the apex of her thighs that Inca finally snapped out of her stupor. She touched his wandering hand, stopping him as he attempted to slip into her undergarment.

"Tuco…" she whispered shakily, battling with her sense of propriety when his touch was so pleasurable. "I don't think…"

He could feel her resolve falling away. "Don't think…" he purred, his hand diving into the frail piece a fabric barring his way to find her moist center. "…just feel." He tested her with a finger. She was so hot!

Her quickening breaths feathered over his ears as he continued to work her neck with his mouth. Another finger joined the first, and his eyes rolled back into his head at the tightness he found there.

She was pure, innocent. She would be a whole sight better than the whores he would often visit. They served their purpose, giving him the erotic experience he needed to satisfy any female he put the effort into.

He loved the thought that he had found one who knew nothing of such things. He would be Inca's first.

He could not wait to fuck her, to make her his. Then he would watch as the filthy pride and superiority fell from her father's face. He would have no choice but to call him son before all and elevate him and his clan.

He began to move his fingers in and out of Inca, his other hand bringing her face to his own. His kiss was forceful, aggressive, his tongue plunging into her mouth when she gasped, and Inca felt all the more aroused for it.

She had never before gone so far with a male. This was far beyond the shy kisses and caresses stolen with childhood crushes. This was different and most decidedly adult.

She didn't know if she was ready for this, despite the pleasing sensations her flesh was sending to her brain.

With the last ounce of rationality she had, Inca grabbed his hand firmly, attempting to pull his fingers from her body. He pulled back from the kiss, his tongue licking her lower lip seductively.

"Let me make you feel good," Tuco crooned. "You're soaking wet. I could give you what you obviously want." He tried to move his hand forward again.

Inca's eyes tried to close. She wanted to give in so badly, but she knew this wasn't right. So she shifted herself back while pulling his hand, finally successful in extracting his fingers.

Withdrawing his hand from under her dress, Tuco brought his fingers to his face, sniffing deeply before sucking them clean. Inca could only watch, her heavy-lidded eyes taking in the sensuous act.

She shook herself. It was time to go, before she did something irreversible. Rising to her feet, she straightened her clothing in an attempt to make herself presentable enough to be seen by her parents.

Tuco stood as well. Dammit! She had almost succumbed. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her into his body so he could nuzzle her neck. Inca could feel the hardness of his erection against her stomach.

"Are you sure you must leave?" he asked, his voice deepened by lust. "We yet have time, and there are still so many pleasures I would like to show you."

Inca felt his hot tongue travel from her collarbone up to her jaw line. It was too much. So she pushed back from him, determined to leave before she lost all control. She turned away, putting some distance between them.

When she turned around, her eyes widened at the glimpse of fury she caught on Tuco's face just before he could hide it again behind his usual charming expression. Was he truly angry with her? "Tuco..?"

"I understand, _Xochitl_," he said, trying to hide his anger. It would not do to scare her away with impatience. "…until we meet again?"

Inca nodded, still thinking of the face she had seen. "I will send word," she replied uncertainly, then waved to him as she left, feeling his eyes upon her back. She quickly made her way home, half expecting him to follow her.

Surely it was just a momentary lapse on his part. He was kind, charming, and every bit the respectable cat she thought him to be. And his touch…it was intoxicating. If that was what he could do with just his fingers, what would he do with his…?

"Oof!" Inca exclaimed as she unexpectedly collided with a hard, immovable body. "Excuse me," she started to say with a smile until she looked up into the furious face of her father.

"_Tatzintli_,'' she whispered, her mind already trying to come up with an excuse as to why she was out at this improper hour. "I was…"

"Don't bother," Horace growled, grasping the back of Inca's neck and drawing her into their home. "I had you followed. I know what you have been doing, what _trash_ you have been keeping your time with."

As they walked into the house, she was all but thrown forward. When she turned around, her father loomed over her, his face cold. "I do not care why you are doing it, or what he has told you. I do not care what pathetic feelings you may have for him."

He stepped closer, driving his point home. "You will STOP seeing him, Inca, or I swear by Quetzalcoatl I will disown you. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

"But he is who I want, father!" Inca protested. "I don't want anyone else!" The words were barely out of her mouth before she was hit with an open-handed slap, leaving her face burning.

Bringing a hand to her cheek, she raised disbelieving, moistening eyes to her father's face. He had…had _struck_ her! She had _never_ known him to be violent with her, not even as a child. Never.

Her heart broke in that moment. What was happening to her family?

Her mother, awakened by the commotion, appeared just in time to see a sobbing Inca run past her and directly to her room, the door slamming loudly.

"Horace," she said, deeply concerned. Her mate had never struck their children. In fact, it was she who had been the disciplinarian in their family. Something had to have driven him to such an act.

Horace was frozen, the look on his daughter's face playing over and over in his mind. He had not meant to strike her, not really. He had just wanted to make his point clear, to make her understand this was not up for debate.

But hitting her..? That was not what he had wanted. As Erzine came to his side, he wrapped an arm about her shoulders, still looking in the direction his precious girl had gone. "What have I done, love?"

He finally looked down into his mate's face. "What have I done?"

* * *

After spending hours crying in her room, and debating on what she should do, Inca came to a final, heart-wrenching decision. For someone of her station, to be disowned was to be ruined.

Not only would she be irreversibly dishonored, she would be a pariah. No family would accept such a female into their clan. She would end up a spinster, living out her life as someone's maid or nanny at best.

At the very worst, she could find herself working a brothel, having no other way to keep herself fed.

Her siblings would be forbidden to speak to her or even acknowledge her presence. No one would ever associate her with the Nahua clan again. She would fade away and die in obscurity and loneliness.

Would her father really do this to her? If the look on his face last night were any indication, she did not want to push him any further.

So it was with a heavy heart that she approached the breakfast table that morning. She sat down, took a deep breath, and stared straight into her father's eyes.

"I will do as you say, _Tatzintli_," she stated in a small voice. "I will send word to Tuco to meet with me one last time. I will tell him then that I cannot see him again."

Her appetite ruined, Inca stood once more. Before she walked out, she made one last statement. "I just want to stay your daughter." She ignored the odd looks given to her by her siblings, just wanting to be alone.

Horace could smell the salt of her tears as she left. He wanted to go to her, to tell her she would always be his _cihuanton_, even if she mated the lowliest of servants.

But his pride, his ingrained duty to his clan made him hold his tongue. There was too much at stake to throw it all away for some passing infatuation.

This was for Inca's own good. It would all work out in the end. Surely it would.

* * *

_That evening…_

Inca walked to the meeting place, both sorrow and anxiousness riding her heart. She had no idea how things would go when she told Tuco. All she could do was be honest with him. Surely he would understand.

When Tuco saw Inca approaching, he already knew something was wrong. Her steps were slow, and she wouldn't meet his eyes.

When he stepped forward to embrace her, she stepped back, her hand up in a gesture to stay his advances. What was going on?

"Inca…" he began, but she shushed him.

"Tuco, please let me speak. I want you to know that I have enjoyed our time together. You made me feel like I was precious and beautiful. I know that, if our situations were different, I really could love you."

Tuco was horrified. It sounded as though she were saying goodbye! This could not be! Just last night, she was as good as his, and now…

"What are you saying, Inca? We are supposed to be together!" He moved closer, his tall frame dwarfing her smaller one. "Last night, you…" He blinked in disbelief. "How could you have changed your mind?"

Inca move a step back, trying to gain an advantage in this discussion. This was not going at all as she had planned. She decided to be as concise and emotionless as she could. She smoothed her face, making it a business-like mask.

"I cannot see you again, Tuco," she said firmly. "I am sorry." She turned to go before her tears could be seen.

She made it a few steps before her arm was grabbed and she was turned and thrust into Tuco's angry visage. "It's your father, isn't it? I knew he would try to turn you away from me."

His grasp was growing tighter, painful. Inca started to become angry. Why couldn't he just let her leave? It was already hard enough without the emotional scene. She wanted to go home, to be alone so she could cry and shed all this grief in her heart. This was going all wrong!

When his grip finally caused her to flinch, she angrily pushed him away. "Unhand me!" she yelled. "I have told you what has to be. I cannot see you again. Just leave it, Tuco. You will find someone else!"

His face registered shock first, then blankness. So it was not only her father who looked down on him and his clan, but her as well? She always _did_ carry herself in pride and decadent arrogance, just like Horace. How had he not seen it before now?

So her passionate words, whispered into his eager ears, her kisses and caresses during their meetings were all lies? Did she think him beneath her, just some eager fool grateful for even a crumb of her affection?

Perhaps he had been merely her plaything. That thought had Tuco moving toward her soundlessly before he even realized.

Inca had been walking away, her heart broken, beating listlessly within her breast, when he first put his hands on her. Tuco grasped her dress at the neck, forcefully pulling her around and pushing her forward, back toward their meeting area.

The momentum carried her forward clumsily until she fell on her stomach. She raised herself up on her arms, trying to clamor to her feet, but found herself flipped over onto her back, Tuco's tall frame above her, caging her legs between his thighs.

**-START - DISCRETION ADVISED-**

"What the HELL are you doing, Tuco?!" she screamed. Her head turned to the side suddenly when he slapped her, the blow so hard it stunned her for the moment.

She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, Tuco's flushed, wrathful face was just an inch or two from hers. He grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head.

"So, you thought this was all a joke, is that it? You thought you could play around with me and my affections, my _hopes_? You and your snooty family think I am unworthy, that my family is _nothing_."

Inca was stunned speechless. She had no idea Tuco would react this way.

"Your father wants you to leave me, and for what…to mate you to some pampered snob?" He secured her hands in one of his, and Inca could feel his other creeping up under her dress, making its way to an area he had been welcomed to only hours ago.

He grasped her undergarments in his claws. When she looked down, Inca could see the distinct imprint of his erection pressing against the crotch of his breeches. Her widened eyes came back to his face. _No…please, not that._

She tried to cajole him softly, to reason with him. "Tuco, please, I meant no disrespect. You come from a great family, and you deserve every possible—"

"Shut up!" Tuco boomed into her face, his breath a sickly sweet breeze against her face. "Your father looked down on me from the moment he met me. And you…you are no better. But don't worry. You _will_ be mine. Let's see your father take you from me when I've already mated you!"

She gasped as Tuco ripped her panties from her in one rough pull. She attempted to scream, but was muffled when he forcefully kissed her, driving his tongue deep into her mouth, making her want to gag.

His hand grasped her thigh, claws digging, moving it up and outward, making room for him to fit his hips between her legs. She tried her hardest to fight, bucking her hips, trying to knock him off. But he was a large jaguar, covered in corded muscle. He kept his seat.

Inca ripped her mouth free of him, and was able to wrestle a hand free. She used her claws, scoring four gashes down the side of Tuco's face.

He reared back, painfully grabbing his injury. "You bitch!" he snarled, then hit her again, this time with a closed fist. Inca's vision blurred for a moment.

When she was able to clear her sight, she saw that he had again secured her hands in one of his, and his other was fumbling with the fastening to his breeches.

She let out a sob, fear finally taking hold of her. "Tuco," she cried plaintively. "Please don't do this! I never meant to hurt you!"

But the male was numb to her pleading. As he finally freed his throbbing flesh from its bounds, he positioned himself at her dry entrance. Then he looked up at her, wanting to watch her face as he made her his.

She shook her head desperately, tears running down her face into the unforgiving earth. "Please, please, Tuco, NO!"

Tuco's jaw clenched as he thrust his hips forward.

Inca screamed on his entry, the flimsy barrier of her innocence ripped away in moments, the white hot pain a nauseating flood from her core to her brain.

Tuco did not wait for her to adjust, ramming into her over and over, her blood the only lubrication to aid his repeated intrusion. Each push of his hips brought a whimper from her, further exciting him.

Now she would love him. She would feel his want of her, his need, and her mind would change. She would be his again. She had just needed convincing.

She finally fell silent, her body slackening as Inca eyes focused on a cloud floating overhead, turned pink by the setting sun, her mind flying far into the sky in an attempt to escape the trauma of the ruinous event taking place. Maybe if she thought of something else, it would be over sooner.

_I'd never realized how blue the sky is_, she thought, her body jerking with each savage thrust, each drive of foreign, unwanted flesh within her own. _If only I could go up into that blue, alight upon the clouds. I could soar above it all. I could just fly far away…_

Her mind was brought back when she felt the hot sting of fluid within her womb, the harsh groans of her assailant's finish. He lay there for a moment, her restraint forgotten as he recovered from his climax.

He pushed himself up on his arms, and Inca hissed painfully when he pulled out from her body.

**-END-**

Tuco looked down on her face, finding her slack, almost catatonic in her quiet. Her eyes, once full of wondrous emerald light, were now dull as dirtied leaves, focused on nothing in particular, let alone him.

He thought he heard footsteps quickly approaching in the distance, and in his paranoia and haste to leave the scene, it never occurred to him that he had forgotten to mark her.

Inca lay there, her body positioned as Tuco had left it. She almost smiled at the serenity of the sky, would have if her face was not throbbing so. _So blue…_

She lay there, until the pain became numbness, until the roaring in her ears faded. When she finally achieved the motivation to sit up, she discovered the pain was still there, would most likely always be there, just under the surface, reminding her of this moment.

She located the remains of her mangled underwear, lying torn and discarded in the grass. Picking them up, she stuffed them into the pocket of her dress. The area had become so tranquil in the loud silence, concealing the horror that had just taken place.

A single thought penetrated the numb muddle of her mind. Perhaps she could conceal what just happened too. She had to go home, needed to see her family, to wash the filth of Tuco's essence from within her, his unwanted touch from her skin.

Inca straightening her dirtied dress to the best of her ability. At the very least, anyone she encountered on her travels home would attribute her mussed appearance to a fall or other such accident.

She was sure there was a bruise on her face. The pain could only mean it was there. That could be easily explained away as a fall as well, of course. No one need know what happened. Hopefully they would not try to ask her any more information about it.

She could feel the mixture of Tuco's semen and her blood seeping from within her, making her long more desperately for a bath.

The walk home was quicker than she thought it would be, her feet shuffling to her destination automatically, without little effort on her part. She was completely blank, her face, her mind devoid of any other sentiment other than her desire to be home.

Home was where the bath was. Home was where she would get clean. She _had_ to get clean.

She finally arrived at her family's home, slipping in quietly. It was quiet. Apparently they were out. It was a relief that she would be able to bathe before facing her family. She could not bear it if they found out how much of a fool she had been.

As she neared her room however, her hopes were dashed by her father's voice saying what she dreaded.

"You smell of him. I scented your reek as soon as you entered _my_ home." Inca turned to see Horace leaning against the doorway leading into the kitchen. His eyes, always so kind to her growing up, were now clouded with disappointment and wrath.

"You mated him, didn't you?" he asked, walking slowly toward her. Before she could answer, her father's hands were upon her, wrenching the collar of her dress aside and tilting her chin so he could inspect her neck.

"Your scent contradicts the fact that you do not bear his mark." He released her, looking at her in confusion. "So you engaged in sex with him, but did not let him mate you?" His green eyes, the ones he had given her, looked her over with disbelief.

"So you return dishonored, _spoiled_, and you don't even have a bond to show for it?" He considered her a moment. "Do you realize what you've done? You have ruined any chance of mating into a decent family. Who do you think is going want—"

"Father I was RAPED!" Inca screamed, finally tired of the lecture. Here she was, feeling utterly unclean, having suffered abuse at the hands of someone who had claimed to treasure her, and her father, the one cat she thought knew her the most, _loved_ her the most, was accusing her. It angered her greatly.

Horace was taken by surprise by his daughter's statement. His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open for the moment. Inca saw several emotions cross his face until it smoothed out into a mask of indifference.

"What did you expect to happen when you were meeting with him, without a chaperone at all hours of the night?!" Her father fumed, ignoring the gasp it brought from Inca. "I am sure this was not the first time he had touched you."

"Did you not hear what I just said?!" Inca asked, incredulous. "I was _violated_ by Tuco, and all you can do is blame _me_?!"

She turned without a word to go to her room, surprised and relieved when her father made no move to stop her. When she reached her room, she shut the door behind her softly just in time for the tears to fall from her eyes.

She had thought that things would have gone differently, but this betrayal by Tuco and especially her father was breaking her down hard. She sat there crying for a moment, until her tears dried and her resolve hardened.

A week later, Inca and her father were still avoiding one another, walking on eggshells whenever they would meet. Her other family members, unaware of what had occurred, gave her space, assuming she was just going through relationship woes.

When Inca experienced her first heat not long after, brought on by her involuntary sexual activity, her mother was stunned but said nothing, sensing that something had happened to make both her daughter and mate act so oddly of late. She simply helped Inca to get through the cycle without much difficulty.

Erzine was not one to just sit idly by while her family suffered, but if this was between Horace and Inca, she had a feeling it would have to be worked out between them. They were both so much alike, very stubborn and proud.

Inca was known to have her secrets, and her mother let her have them so long as they were not harmful. But was this a secret that needed to be told?

Erzine would insist on it if things continued much longer in this way. She could only deal with so much, and the clan was having enough problems without family squabbles adding to it.

Inca was relieved that she had not become pregnant, as was Horace. A week later, Inca was on her way out, wanting to get some air away from the house, and her father.

She was chagrined when he stopped her. They had not shared much conversation since the incident, both of them battling disappointment, anger, and pride between themselves. So she wondered what he could possibly want to say.

"I think I have found a solution to our problem," he stated flatly, looking at her bland, unhappy expression. He knew that something needed to be done about their relationship, but he would address that later. This was more important.

"What problem?" Inca asked, her gaze on the floor. Couldn't he see she just wanted to go? She was nothing more than an asset to him anyway. Why should they talk?

"The Teotihuacan clan was seeking to mate you to their eldest son. We were in negotiations during the time of the Gathering. But that is sure to be ruined now due to your…indiscretions."

He watched her face for a reaction, and when there was none, Horace continued speaking. "But the Cholula clan would be willing to mate you to their second son. Yes, they are lesser ranking, but considering what has occurred we can expect no better."

The first instinct Inca had was to lash out. She was _sick_ of the accusatory tones and looks. She was tired of being treated like she had _asked_ to be assaulted!

But another idea came to her, one that would end all of these issues.

So she meekly nodded, turning to leave. On her way out the door, she heard her father speaking to Maya, asking about how she felt about joining with the Teotihuacans, saying that she was now the only hope to raise their clan's status.

So he intended to ruin Maya's life, as he had tried to do to hers. Inca felt her heart drop to think of it. Maybe she could help Maya too.

* * *

_Later that night…_

Inca slipped the last of her personal effects into her bag. She looked around her room, checking to see if there was anything more she wanted to bring with her. She did not want to take much. She had a long way to go.

A small knock on her door raised her from her musings. Maya stole into the room, a nervous look on her face. "What is it, _icnehua_?"

When Inca had secretly asked her to meet with her well after she would usually have been asleep, Maya had wondered if it had something to do with the trouble she had sensed throughout the household.

"Maya," Inca greeted, hugging her. "You didn't tell anyone about this, did you?" Maya shook her head. "Good. I asked you to meet with me, because I heard what Father was saying earlier today. He wants to mate you to the Teotihuacan clan as he once had with me. Are you alright with this?"

Maya hesitated, unsure how to respond. Yes, her father had mentioned it, but there was still more time before she reached the age of maturity and could take a mate.

Maya had figured that she would just wait for that time and see what would happen. Truth be told, she hadn't really taken Horace seriously when he had mentioned it offhand.

Taking her sister's hesitation as a negative response, Inca interjected. "If you don't want to be treated like some broodmare, you could come with me, tonight. I'm leaving, Maya."

"What?! What do you mean, leaving?" Maya moved closer. Her sister was her best friend, and she couldn't stomach the idea of her not being around.

"I cannot stay here, Maya. Now father treats me like…" she felt a lump in her throat, tears gathering in her eyes. She sniffed her suddenly stuffy nose. "I just can't anymore."

Maya clenched her hands together, conflicted. Inca dried her eyes, looking intently at her. "Come with me, _pipiotzin_. We can do what _we_ want to do. We are of age. Let's live our lives without being dictated to."

Maya frowned at her. "You know I don't like when you call me that." Inca smiled. It was her little pet name for her ever since she was a scared little cub.

"I know," she said in jest before getting serious. "If you come with me, you won't have to mate someone you hardly know. You could be with whoever you wanted to be with. Don't you want that?"

"I do, sister," Maya said. "And usually I would go without a thought…but what about our mother? She will already be crushed when she finds you gone. If both of us left, it would kill her."

Inca had to admit that Erzine would probably grow ill in her distress, taking to her bed. She worried so much for her children. If something happened to her, as a direct result of something Inca did, she would never forgive herself.

Without a word, Inca grabbed her sister in a hug. "Where will you go?" Maya asked, still within her sister's embrace. There were not many local villages, and most hospitable areas were on the far edges of Mazatlàn and beyond.

"I think I will journey north," Inca said, thinking. "I've always wanted to see Thundera, the jewel of the cat kingdom." She smiled down at Maya. "Who knows? Maybe I'll find a prince to mate. That would fix Father, don't you think?"

The two sisters shared a giggle or two before quiet set in at their impending farewell. "I love you, _Icnehua_," Maya cried, wiping her eyes.

"And I love you. Don't cry," Inca sniffled, even as she wiped her own eyes. "We will see each other again, and when I become the intended of a prince, I will send you an invitation."

The two laughed again briefly. Inca knew the time had come. She picked up her bag, and Maya walked her to the door and out into their front gardens.

"Tell Chupa I love him, and that I'm sorry I could not say goodbye. You know he couldn't keep a secret to save his life. If I had asked him to meet me, Father would have been right along with him."

Maya agreed. With one last embrace, Inca set off, promising to write. She hoped her father would not be too angry that she had stolen a Monterac to ride on her journey, but she honestly did not care at this point. It was too long a way to voluntarily go on foot, and it was the least he could do for his treatment of her.

She left her homeland behind, staying away from the busiest areas so word would not reach Horace too quickly. The days seem to pass slowly and uneventfully.

On the way, she met up with an old drifter by the name of Hattanzo. He was an odd character, but she took an instant liking to him and his riddles.

Though a rabbit, and usually not one a cat would associate with, Hattanzo was gifted in sword-smithing, and told her of the harsh lesson he had learned at the hands of an individual known as The Duelist.

In turn, Inca told him of her reasons for leaving, something she had not even confided with her own siblings. It was shocking to be able to open up and talk with someone she barely knew more than she could her own family.

When Hattonzo heard her story, he sympathized with what had happened to her. He offered to teach her some self-defense techniques, so that something like that would never, ever happen again. Inca happily agreed.

She decided to stick with Hattanzo for a while and "drift," as he loved to call it. Before she knew it, nearly two years had gone by. Among many places, they ended up in one of the outer territories of Thundera, venturing into one of the larger cities.

There Inca aided a young lioness by the name of Leia, who was being accosted by a gang of dogs as she was traveling through the merchant district. Inca and Hattonzo were more than enough to send the dogs running.

The two females would become fast friends, and when Leia's family, the noble Goldenmane clan, offered Inca a position in their house as a bodyguard, there was no question of her acceptance.

Hattanzo would stay on for a little while longer, teaching Inca the last of all he knew, but he would eventually move on. "I am a drifter, after all," he told her.

By the time he left, he had instilled in Inca the discipline, assertiveness, confidence, and strength needed to defend herself. Inca almost _wished_ she could run into Tuco again.

Like she had promised, Inca kept in touch with Maya, sending letters under a false name to keep her sister from worrying and Horace from finding out. Maya kept her abreast of happenings back home.

Apparently Tuco had not been seen since the incident. Perhaps he feared her father. He could relax however. It wasn't like her father blamed _him_, after all.

She was told that Horace missed her, as did her mother. He had greatly regretted his treatment of her, and Maya was sure she would be welcomed with open arms if she returned.

Inca was happy to hear that, but knew she had to travel her own path for a while and find her purpose.

Inca served the Goldenmane house for two more years, business being pretty much as usual, until the family received a missive with the insignia of the king on it. It was a summons to the capital city. Prince Lion-O was choosing a mate!

So Leia and Inca journeyed to the capital city of Thundera, seat of the royal Redmanes, and their destiny. Neither would know how much their lives would be forever changed.


	4. Illumination

**(Thundercats 2011)**

**Volume I – Drogo x Inca**

**A/N - **** Sorry for the delay in updating. I'm working on two projects at the same time, which I will never do again. Too much going on in my head, writer's block, blah, blah.**

**So this is the chapter where Inca finally enlightens Drogo about her past. I hope you guys enjoy it. The entirety of the chapter occurs in he room, so you know what that means. There is LEMON in this. Hope you like it. There will be one more chapter after this one. I always feel a mix of anxiety and anticipation when I publish. Please read and review! Thank you for reading!**

******************DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thundercats or have any affiliation with the creators, producers, etc., nor do I receive any compensation for this work.**

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Illumination**

A servant placed a tray of refreshments in front of Inca, who sat back against her chair, trying her best to relax. He had thankfully brought a variety of beverages, most of them alcoholic.

She'd already had a couple of drinks in a desperate attempt to give her courage for the task ahead. She smoothed her silk shift nervously as she waited.

The light blue material slid softly against her skin, a very pleasant feeling. She wanted to be perfectly comfortable for tonight, and it was her favorite sleeping attire.

Drogo would be along shortly, the two having agreed to meet this evening in her room so she could tell him what she would.

_How am I going to do this?_ She thought, taking another draught from her goblet. She excused the servant after he finished with everything, and sighed. Maybe if she just closed her eyes, she could relax and just breathe.

Just as she did so, she heard his distinctive knock on her door, the firm triad of raps he always did when he would visit her.

Walking to the door slowly, she took a deep breath, centering her mind before pulling the door open.

Drogo stood tall, a smile on his handsome face. He chose to wear more casual attire tonight, a green tunic and breeches that clung just right to his muscular frame and brought out the moss color of his eyes.

He was not here for Clerical business after all. Jaga had promised he was free from duty for the next two days.

That was fortunate, since judging from his lover's nervous expression he would probably need the time.

"Good evening," Drogo greeted, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door softly behind him.

Inca answered in kind, showing him to a chair so they could sit together. "Would you like a drink?" she asked him, motioning to the various bottles and flasks on the table. "I have a variety here."

He perused her face for a moment longer before checking on the choices, raising his eyebrows. "I see that," he jested, trying to keep the tone light. He chose something of low alcoholic content, sipping as he watched her.

He'd never seen her so uncomfortable before. It seemed that their relationship was advancing to a new level, one that Inca was not accustomed to. Maybe it was hard for her to handle.

This thing she had to tell him, it was making her very uneasy. If only he could assure her that, whatever it was she had to say was immaterial. He was hers, forever.

And she was his.

Inca took another sip of her drink, set it down, and slowly met his eyes. "Okay. What I'm going to tell you is something that has haunted me all this time, but has also made me strong. It happened about five years ago, back when I was a different individual than I am now."

Drogo nodded, but placed a hand on hers where they rested on the table. She looked at him in confusion.

"Before you start, I want to say that I don't want you to think you have to tell me anything you are not comfortable talking about." His eyes were serious as he continued. "I have known you for a long time now. We have our similarities, but we also have our differences, and that's what makes us a strong couple."

He joined her shaky hands in both of his, warming them. "I _love_ you, Inca. I have for a very long time. And nothing is going to change that. You may tell me anything you want, but don't feel you have to in order to keep me. There's no way I would ever leave you."

She smiled at him tearfully, never thinking that he could be this way even before hearing her sordid tale. "I love you too," she said softly. "So very much, and that is why I need to tell you this. I want everything between us to be open, honest, and fresh. Telling you this will help me feel right in my heart."

Drogo brought her hand to his mouth in a tender kiss. "Then I will listen, my lady."

And so Inca told her tale, giving Drogo background information on her homeland, family members, and culture. She spoke of the Gathering and its significance, and of how she had met a charismatic, handsome, and seemingly honorable young jaguar there.

She told of the naiveté she had displayed, her mistaking his overzealous advances and words for true feelings, her imaginings that she was in love with Tuco after knowing him for such a short while, and what that love had driven her to do.

She had disobeyed her father, lied to her family, and put herself on a path to be dishonored at the hands of a vicious individual hiding behind a charming smile, and all at the bidding of her feelings.

To her knowledge, those feelings had been pure and consuming. They had to have been to have made her take so much risk. But the truth was that her feelings had blinded her to the reality of the situation.

It was amazing how hindsight cleared up the cobwebs of emotion and forced her to see the truth.

Tuco had been a fool, a liar, _and_ a rapist, beneath her in every way.

By the time Inca completed her story, she was crying quietly, her eyes lowered. Drogo had not made a sound, and she was reluctant to look at his face. But eventually, she did.

His face was obscured by the angle of his head, his eyes in shadow. He was so quiet, so still. Inca was trying to piece together something to say to him when he spoke. When he did so, his deep voice was very soft, very cold.

"You say he left, that no one knows where he is?" When she hesitated to answer, he brought his head up to stare at her. His face was like stone, his jaw tight.

"Y-yes," Inca stuttered, hoping Drogo's ire was not directed at her. "It is assumed that he left Mazatlan."

Drogo closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself. When Inca had told him that this Tuco had put his hands on her, had _violated_ her, he had lost all rational thought.

He had immediately wanted to locate this spineless bastard and neutralize him, forever.

To think of another male putting his hands on Inca, of course it bothered him. But to hear that someone had done so against her will…that was enough to get him in a killing mood.

And her father had been such a _fucking_ idiot, persecuting his daughter for the deeds of a rapist! It was all Drogo could do to keep from finding him and dragging him back here to beg her forgiveness on his _knees_!

At least he had come to his senses after Inca had left, if her sister's message had been accurate.

He continued to breathe, getting his temper under control. When he looked up, meeting Inca's fearful eyes, he smiled as best he could, given the circumstances.

"Have no fear, love. My anger is not with you, but with this fool who would dare to touch you in such a way." He leaned forward, his eyes sincere. "Know that you are _not_ to blame for any of this. You were young, as we all were at one time. Mistakes are made, but they make us wise. They make us strong."

Inca smiled feebly. "I know, but the mistakes I made, they changed everything. They also scarred the relationship I had with my family, especially my father." She wiped away a wayward tear. "I didn't think he would ever want to lay eyes on me again." She bowed her head. "Even if it is true, and he does want to see me, it will never be the same."

"That is not true," Drogo declared. "I am sure he loves you just as much now as he ever did. He would be remiss if he did not. Besides, you were _forced_, Inca. You need his understanding and protection, not his blame, and I am sure he will give that to you."

A thought occurred to him, and he drew her gaze. "Thinking on what happened to you, I could see how you would want to be careful. But to be honest, I'm surprised you were able to start a relationship with me at all. In actuality, I would never have known. You seemed so confident when we first met."

He remembered the graceful, sexy cat that had sauntered up the hallway with that sexy sway in her hips that had immediately enflamed him. He never would have guessed.

Inca smiled, looking slightly embarassed. She remembered too. "Oddly enough, I never had any problems engaging in sex after my rape. It was not that aspect of relating with males that gave me pause. Falling in love was what scared me, for my feelings had betrayed me before. So it was easier to have relationships without emotion."

She took a sip from her goblet. "But then you made me feel…so much more than I had for anyone before. I actually _cared_ if I saw you again, wondered where you were and what you were doing, all while not being in your presence. As those feelings grew, they surprised…and frightened me."

And that's when she had become more distant. Drogo understood. It had been the same for him at first, but only for a moment. He had eventually welcomed his feelings, embracing them, and Inca.

He only certainly hoped he was right about her father, as a plan formulated in his mind. He would continue to think on it, to make the plan an actuality. But for now, he would see to his Inca.

She wiped her eyes, the tears coming slower but steadily, this time in relief. It felt so good to get this burden off her heart! Now, she could open herself up again, could trust again, to have someone understand who she truly was and why.

Said someone was reaching for her when she dried her eyes. He grabbed her hands, tugging her over to sit on his lap. She usually felt odd sitting this way, but tonight it was natural, appropriate.

"Now you know everything," Inca said awkwardly. "I hope this does not change anything."

Drogo's eyes were piercing, his love for her shining from them like miniature suns. "How could you ever have thought something like this would deter me from you?" he asked, his eyes beginning to burn as they beaded in on her lips, his hand caressing her thigh, moving to the hem of her shift.

"Don't you know that you are like air to me, so precious, so _necessary_, that I could not function without you? He brought one of her hands to his tunic, indicating she should undo his buttons. She began to do so, slowly.

"Never again will anyone hurt you," he said, never taking his gaze from her face. "Never again will you feel afraid to talk to me, to tell me all that ails you, frightens you, worries you."

Inca had gotten the buttons all undone, and now she caressed his chest, reacquainting herself with the firm, rippling musculature that had drawn her attention that day so long ago, that form that now belonged to her. _Mine_, she thought possessively. _For always, mine._

She smiled softly, moving to cradle her love's face in her small hand. "My worries have ended, even if my memories have not. But you are here, and that is enough for me."

Drogo smiled back, one hand moving up under her shift as the other went to the nape of her neck. "Then allow me to help you forget, my lady." He put gentle pressure on her neck, bringing her mouth down to his.

His lips caressed hers lightly, carefully, gauging her reaction after having just told such a traumatic tale. He wanted to ensure she was alright with everything, though the scent of her arousal was definitely testing his patience.

Such care was forgotten when her tongue slid along his lips, coaxing him to open for her. Her arms slipped up and around his neck, and she grasped his head, grinding her hips against Drogo's lap.

He was already painfully hard, and his fangs nipped her lips, his claws digging slightly into her hips. Inca sighed against him, driving her tongue deeply to taste of him, purring into his mouth.

She brought her hands to his breeches, fumbling at first, then accomplishing the singular purpose of freeing his erection just in time for him to tear her underwear asunder and toss them carelessly aside.

They worked together, Inca holding him fast as he gripped her hips and slowly lowered her onto his length. He sighed against her neck as he filled her, the warmth of her encompassing him perfectly. They sat like that for a moment, engaging in a slow, deep kiss.

He moved his hands to her ass, prompting her to start moving. She raised herself up, undulating her hips as she sat back down. This she did repeatedly, slow and torturously, causing the lion to growl against her lips.

He finally had his fill of her languid ways, and planted his feet so he could thrust upward while roughly pushing her down. She gasped as her pearl was ground between their bodies, his thrusts a staccato rhythm, slow, but hard.

Inca rubbed her face against his mane as he began to lick and suck on her neck. He felt so good, and she was lost, her mind focusing on sensations rather than rational thought.

Her reverie was broken when he suddenly stood, still inside her, supporting her against him as he walked just a short distance to her bed. Once there, Drogo tossed her on the bed, where she landed softly against the down pillows and sat up to watch him.

He moved forward, grasping her shift and pulling it up and over her head in one motion. As he removed his unbuttoned tunic, Inca was already working on his breeches, pulling them down over his hips.

She pulled them only half way down his legs, thinking it a good time to torment him. He looked at her in puzzlement before tilting his head back and groaning in ecstasy as she immediately engulfed him in her mouth.

She was kneeling on the edge of the bed as she pleasured him, and he leaned forward, snaking a hand over her behind, urging her to bend over so he could fondle her moist folds from behind.

She hummed her pleasure, the vibrato of her voice further stimulating him. Her mouth was incredible, swallowing him down from tip to base without pause. He knew she could bring him release this way, as she'd done so on more than enough occasions.

But he wanted more. He wanted to be inside her, to drag her down with him into mind-numbing pleasure.

So he brought his hand to the back of her hair, grabbing a fistful before pulling her gently, but firmly back, guiding her to lie down against the soft pillows.

Drogo pulled his legs from his forgotten trousers, joining her on the bed and settling his hulking frame in the delicious cradle of her thighs.

His mouth was instantly on hers, absorbing her moan as he entered her once again. He worked her in a strong, steady rhythm, driving himself deep. He kept the pace slow, trying to draw out the experience.

Dragging his lips from her mouth, he left little pecks over her chin and to her throat, nipping the crook of her neck before moving to her chest. When he reached her breasts, he could not resist the allure of her erect, pert nipples, the cocoa tips beckoning his mouth.

He greedily suckled her, pinching her nipples between his teeth, the combination of pain and pleasure such an intoxicating mix of sensation to her tingling nerve endings.

Inca whimpered his name, raising her hips to meet the strength of his thrusts. The pressure was already building from her womb to the soft skin of her mound, where their flesh met again and again with a slapping sound that bounced off the walls.

Drogo raised himself up on his forearms, his mouth leaving her breasts wet and swollen. He began to quicken his pace, plunging himself into her ever harder, wringing noises from her that sang to his senses

She grasped his muscular forearms, steadying herself for his pounding. It would not be long now. He could feel her sex tightening around him. Her end was nearing, but he was not content to leave it at that.

Inca nearly screamed in frustration when he pulled out of her. What was he doing? But then he flipped her over so she was on her stomach, and she understood. She smiled sexily at him over her shoulder, her eyes heavy-lidded.

She leaned forward and low, her beautiful hind end raised slightly in a submissive, sexual position. As Drogo mounted her, his large arms supported his body above hers, his forearms resting alongside her shoulders.

Drogo's hips surged forward, filling her with his rigid, throbbing flesh inch by inch, the new angle even more tantalizing.

Inca groaned, her eyes squeezing shut as he settled himself within her. Everything around them diminished, their combined breathing the only sound registering in their ears.

The feel of him was too much, and she felt herself reaching her crest for the first time, her insides tightening before convulsing repeatedly.

She threw her head back, her body jerking, her keening cries penetrating the silence. Drogo wrapped an arm around Inca's torso to steady her for his thrusts, for his kiss along her shoulder and neck.

When she had finished, he again pulled himself from her body, drawing a hiss from her lips. He was not done, not just yet.

When he had her on her back once more, he was inside her again without preamble, her slick entrance easily accommodating his thickness. His movements were smooth and deep, designed to ease them both to their peak.

Inca didn't think she could handle much more, but sure enough, she felt the familiar pressure start to build. Drogo's lips were working against her neck, fanning the flames. She knew she would not last.

He captured her gaze, his eyes blackened with lust. She could not drag her eyes from his intense stare, even with the amount of pleasure she was experiencing.

"You are_ mine_," he said, his voice a low and rough. His jaw was clenched, and he struggled for control, waiting for her to respond.

When his word finally penetrated her foggy mind, Inca took no time to nod her head, her eyes intent on her lover. "Always," she replied, her voice preceding her purrs as her hands dragging him back down to her.

It was all the confirmation Drogo needed. Winding his arms beneath her knees, he began to make love to her with all his fervor and emotion, thrusting himself deep, so deep within Inca.

Her eyes grew wide as she was hit with a wave upon wave of intense pleasure. She rose to her peak quickly, his name a chant on her lips until the dam broke at last.

Her back arched off the bed, her body shuddering violently as she came, Drogo's name a guttural moan into the empty space of the room. Her claws were buried in his mane, the rumble of his growls stimulating everything primal within her.

It was not long before he too finished, and with a grunt against the softness of her skin, he spent himself inside her exquisite body. His hips jerked, and Inca could feel the hot wash of his seed within her.

This was how it should be between two cats, two lovers who trusted and loved each other. And as she came down from her release, Inca felt more content in this small moment in time than she had all her life.

* * *

It was some time later, and the night sounds penetrated Inca's room as the two lovers languished in the ambience of the moment. The crickets were chirping, and the light of the moon shone her ghostly light through the window.

Their breaths back to normal, Inca lay back, absently staring at the ceiling as Drogo dozed alongside her on his stomach, his hand lying possessively against her thigh, fingers flexed.

Her mind was aflutter, her body satisfied, her soul content. Nothing could ruin this moment. And yet…

She brought a hand up, feeling a sore spot on the skin just above her shoulder. She felt the area tentatively, her eyes just able to make out the dark viscosity of her blood on her fingers.

Her eyes widened in realization.

Her voice was hoarse, but it rang clearly in the now quiet room. "You…you marked me." It was more a statement than a question.

Drogo's grip tightened on her thigh, just slightly. She looked over to find him looking at her attentively, his eyes glowing softly in the dim light.

"Yes," he affirmed, his voice quiet. "I did. Is that a problem?" She searched his face. His eyes were almost childlike with the hint of insecurity in his stare.

Inca snuggled closer to him under the covers, their faces close, setting her hand against his cheek. This was the face of her friend, her lover, and now her mate. How could there ever be any doubt?

"No," she said softly, her smile brightening the room as she closed the distance between their lips. "Not at all."


	5. Reckoning

**(Thundercats 2011)**

**Book I – Drogo x Inca**

**A/N - Sorry for the wait, guys. My brain has been exploding with ideas lately! It's hard to write one thing at a time sometimes. I also am working on original work of my own, so yeah, lots of stuff running around in my head. **

**Anyway, looks like Inca's past has followed her to Thundera. At least now she has someone to protect her, and he does so without hesitation. There's also some characters we haven't seen in a while and some smut at the beginning for some light and fluffy action before things take a turn towards the serious. Hope you enjoy.**

**As always, ****please read and revie****w. ****I was lazy at first, and posted it without any real proofreading. I took it down once I started, because there were too many mistakes. So here it is again. I think it's good, but let me know if you see anything I may have missed. I**** love to hear from you guys!**

* * *

**NAHUATL TRANSLATION****S**

**Cualtzin – beautiful**

**Xotchitl – flower**

**Toteotzin – Lord (but for my purposes, Love)**

**Teo - God**

**Quenin chihua? – What is this?**

**Tlahtia – I beg you (shortened from Tlatlahtia – just sounded better to me)**

**Aic – never**

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Reckoning**

Inca opened her eyes, slowly taking in the early morning light that was giving the room a rosy glow, filtering through the bedroom curtains. Her lips pulled up into a small smile as she snuggled back into the shell of her mate's body. He was so warm, his scent so reassuring and masculine.

It had been over a month since Drogo had put his mark on her, and in four weeks they would have a small mating ceremony to celebrate. Drogo was blasé about it. He was never big about ceremonies, and it wasn't really necessary, in his opinion.

He considered them a mated pair regardless, but Inca had known Leia would be upset if they didn't do something special for her best friend. So he went along with her wishes.

Everyone had been elated, most wondering what had taken so long. Jaga had granted the Cleric permission to move into his own home, much to the couple's relief.

They had found a place not far from the palace, which was very convenient. Drogo could accomplish his duties without much trouble. He was able to travel to the palace and the Hall very quickly, neither destination taking more than 10 minutes to reach.

Everything was falling into place.

Inca could not remember ever sleeping so well before or waking up with a smile, as she seemed to more and more nowadays. Drogo had been the best decision she'd made since joining Leia's house so long ago.

She hadn't realized she'd begun purring until she felt Drogo's arms tighten around her midsection. His voice, deepened by sleep, rumbled into her ear, creating pleasant vibrations against her back.

"Mmm…good morning," he breathed against her, and she felt his lips, then his tongue, graze near her shoulder onto his mark, sending fire through her veins. It was one of his favorite spots on her body, she'd noticed.

He would often lick or nuzzle the spot, almost as if to reaffirm that she was truly his, that this wasn't just some dream conjured out of his extreme need for her. He was probably amazed she had accepted him, as distant as she had been at the time.

Now all was well with her. Drogo understood her fully, had accepted her past, and they had been in newly-mated bliss ever since. And if the hardness nudging against her backside was any indication, it was going to be a good morning indeed.

She could get used to this.

"Good morning, mate," she purred, lifting her rear to fit more snuggly against him. He chuckled huskily against the softness of her skin, and she was shocked to feel him grow still harder against her.

"I love it when you call me that," he whispered lazily against her. She knew all too well how it affected him.

When his licks gave way to teeth clamping down on her, gripping firmly, her body went slack, her back arching in preparation when he aligned himself with her from behind. He moved his hand to her nether lips, caressing her ass as he did so. He palmed her, his fingers opening her like a flower.

He slipped two fingers inside, assessing her wetness, and sucked in a breath at the hot grip of her. His growl reverberated against her, and his hand left her for a moment to grasp his thick shaft, placing it at her entrance before thrusting his hips forward.

She moaned lowly as he filled her, gliding easily into her sodden depths. He was always so randy in the mornings, bestial with his growls and grunts. It was one of the things that aroused her most about him. His sexual appetite complimented hers for sure.

He thrust deeply, and took his time, gaining speed as they got their rhythm right. His arm wound about her waist to steady her, and they went on like that for a time before he sped up again, jarring her body exquisitely.

Her moans, rising in volume, egged him on, and soon she tightened around him in release, her body jerking against his. He released her as she came down, still thrusting slowly within her, licking her shoulder and neck.

When Inca relaxed again, she turned her head and looked up at him with a dreamy smirk, noting his flesh still moving within hers. "Not done yet, hmm? I should have known."

"Yes, you should have," Drogo drawled softly with a feral smile. "Once with you is never enough for me." He shifted, his arm moving her leg a little higher up so he could brace himself on his arms over her. She remained on her side.

The new position allowed him to go even deeper. It felt amazing. Inca closed her eyes when he resumed his movements. He felt so good, always did.

She tilted her face toward him, beckoning his lips. Her hand cupped his check as their mouths and tongues devoured each other. His movements became faster, harder, making her toes tingle. She groaned into his mouth.

The kiss was broken when he struck a particularly sweet spot, and Inca threw back her head. "_Teo_!" she panted, her hand searching for something to grasp when he caught it with his own, fingers intertwining. She was so close.

She felt herself ascending, and so did he. Her core was tightening, beginning to pulsate around him in the beginnings of her orgasm. His voice was impossibly deeper when he spoke. "That's it. Come."

At this rate, wouldn't last much longer. "Come for me, girl," he grunted harshly, his hot breath fanning her neck.

Her sheath squeezed him tightly when her climax hit her, her gasping moans floating to the ceiling, her body quaking where she lay.

He leaned forward, burying his face in her neck, his mouth working against her as his hips continued on, finally bringing him to his own intense release with one last hard thrust.

Once his shudders stopped, Drogo lay back at Inca's side, his hand curved against her belly. He hoped to see her swell with their cubs someday, hopefully soon.

Their breathing started to even out, and they nearly settled in for a doze. But it was not to be. Inca sat up suddenly.

"Wait, we can't sleep! You're taking me to the market today, remember? There are some special items I would like to purchase." She nudged him with her elbow when he failed to answer quickly enough.

"Yes, Love. I know," he said complacently, smiling even as his eyes remained closed. "I too have some things I want. Many of the season's best items are going to be available this week."

He half rolled to his side, his arm draped across Inca's stomach. "Although we _could_ stay here, in bed…all day." His voice was a purr in her ear, his hand going to her breast to bring the nipple to his mouth.

Electricity ran through her while he suckled her, her ardor sparked again. She buried a hand in his mane and sighed against his questing lips as her resolve crashed…again. He was so good at doing that.

It looked like they weren't going to go shopping today after all.

* * *

The _next_ day, Drogo and Inca walked along slowly, her arm wound in his. There were so many shops in the merchant's district! Inca was ecstatic, and her excitement was catching. Soon both were darting from cart to cart like cubs, eyes bright.

Drogo had an idea for a gift he wanted to give her to celebrate their mating, but he wanted to keep it a surprise. So he told her he wanted to use the opportunity to do a little Clerical business while he was in the area. He promised not to be long.

He would be on duty tomorrow, so it seemed like a valid excuse. So they separated, Drogo headed towards a stand he had seen with many beautiful gems and other novelties. Inca made her way deeper into the district, hoping to find an adequate, not too extravagant, dress.

She started to lose hope in actually finding something to wear. Most of the stands had more common looking clothing. She would just ask Leia if she could get her in touch with someone in the palace. Surely someone there knew of a good seamstress or tailor.

In the meantime, there were plenty of stands with baubles and other shiny objects. Inca saw one off to the side, in a more enclosed area, with plenty of beautiful, colorful objects that caught the eye. She quickly went to it.

These items looked so…familiar. Inca had never thought she would see anything with this design this far North. They were in the style of Mazatlàn, her homeland. Where was the proprietor of this stand?

She looked around but saw no one. Meanwhile, her eyes were drawn to different animal figurines, many of which were indigenous to Mazatlàn. A toucan here, a macaw there…and here, a jaguar! This one was carved from red malachite, its eyes fashioned with green.

Inca ran her hands over the cool stone, suddenly filled with sorrow for the home she had left behind. It was a beautiful land, and it was moments like this that she missed it greatly. She wanted to show it to Drogo as well. She was sure he would love it there.

Inca picked the little figure up. She had to have it. It had been carved so intricately that even the spots were accurate. "Ah, _Cualtzin_," she cooed. Never had she seen such wonderful workmanship!

She jumped as a voice, one she hadn't heard in so long, had never wanted to hear again, purred in response from behind, curdling her blood.

"Isn't it though?" the voice said. "It is almost as beautiful as you are, _Xochitl_."

That pet name…only _he_ used to call her that. No…she thought, her legs stiff, her heart pounding in her chest with dread. She did not want to turn around. She could not see him again, not when she was all alone.

_Drogo…I need you._

Almost against her will, out of some macabre curiosity, Inca slowly turned. There, standing in the way of her only escape, stood Tuco. He was a little taller than she remembered, but he looked the same as ever.

His face, that face that had betrayed her with its feigned gentleness, was still the same, except a cruel glint lit his eyes where they once looked on her with admiration. It had been so long since he'd seen her, but neither had forgotten.

Inca could still feel his hands when they had ripped her clothes aside, feel his breath against her face as he had raped her. Her knees felt weak, like they would buckle under her at any moment.

_God, where was Drogo?!_

He was slowly coming closer. She should run. She kept seeing herself performing some intricate self-defense move, one that would make Hattanzo proud, but for the life of her, she could not _move_.

He got closer and closer until he was standing in front of her, within grabbing distance. And that fear that had gripped her all those years ago came back in a rush, tightening her muscles in readiness to run.

But she couldn't. She was frozen.

Tuco leaned toward her and inhaled deeply, scowling. "Your scent…it is different. What..?" He stepped closer, walking around behind her, scenting her again. "_Quenin chihua_, Inca?"

His voice was rising, beginning to sound as it had that horrible day. Inca was terrified. Would he assault her again, in this place? She drew a shaky breath, trying to summon the will to step back and keep moving until she was away, safe.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Tuco grabbed a hold of her tunic, wrenching the collar aside. His sudden snarl confirmed what she had hoped would be beneath his notice.

He had found Drogo's mark upon her.

Still grasping Inca's clothing in one fisted hand, Tuco pulled her to him, grasping her chin in his hands. "How _dare_ you bear another's mark?!" he all but screamed in her face. "You attempt to mate another, when it is _I_ to whom you belong?!"

"_Tlahtia_," Inca whimpered, panting. "Just leave me alone. Let me go, Tuco. Please." Her hands went to his chest as she tried to push away from him.

The male sneered in her face. "You still have that insolent tongue, I see. You obviously haven't learned from our last encounter." He released her chin, but if she felt relief it was short lived, for he brought his hand downward.

His fingers floated over a breast, palming it in his hand before using his thumb and forefinger to viciously pinch a nipple. Inca flinched painfully, gasping.

Tuco continued. "It looks like I will have to remind you." His grip tightened, pulling her tighter into his body, and to her horror, Inca could feel the firmness of his erection through his clothing. "You are _mine, Xochitl_, and I will make sure you never forget that."

"_Aic_," Inca growled. She made to pull back, to put distance between them, but his arm was like an iron band, unbreakable. He ground his hips against her, and her terror of her memories was so great that the tears she had tried to hold back finally slipped from her eyes.

She struggled in earnest, her muscles finally freed from their stupor. He held her fast, moving toward an alcove not far from his merchandise. Inca saw where he was steering her, and knew what would occur if he was able to get her there.

_Never again, _she thought fiercely, finally spurred into motion.

She brought her knee up, hard, hitting him squarely in his groin. He screeched in pain, and doubled over, giving her the chance to run toward the other stands, toward witnesses, toward safety. She looked back to see where he was, pleased that he was still incapacitated.

Inca turned her head back around just in time to nearly collide with Drogo, who softened the blow when he grabbed her upper arms. She looked up into his face, breathing a sigh of relief, but his attention was not on her.

The lion was staring directly at her assailant, murderous intent in his eyes. He muttered just on word. "Tuco?" Inca nodded. "Yes."

* * *

Drogo had searched quite a while for the perfect mating gift. He finally found something he felt would convey the depth of his love as well as his immense respect for Inca's culture.

He had the item engraved and boxed, then made his way back toward where he thought she would be. He sped up his steps, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Just as he made his way to the center of the marketplace, he heard it.

A raised voice, very male, very angry was coming from a small nook between two buildings bordering the market. At first, Drogo held no interest until he recognized the responding female voice. It sounded very afraid. _Inca…_

He picked up his pace, turning the corner just in time for Inca to nearly collide with him. He glanced down at her, ensuring he had stopped her from falling.

But when he looked up, the background darkened, and all he could see was the spotted male, doubled over from an obvious groin shot.

He had clearly been out of line for Inca to hurt him. Drogo considered him for a moment, then noted his markings, the familiar description Inca had given of her assailant from years ago making him come to a realization.

He stared at the cat that had just become prey, rational thought penetrating the killing haze forming in his mind just long enough for him to utter one word. "Tuco?"

* * *

He gently put her aside, walking with purposeful steps toward the other male. Easily dwarfing the jaguar, Drogo towered over Tuco, who was just straightening up to his feet. Without any preamble, the lion grasped him by the throat, lifting him off his feet.

With a roar, the Cleric hurled him against the stone wall bordering the alleyway, and a sickening splat was heard punctuated by Tuco's painful cry. He slid down the wall slowly.

Drogo stood over him, waiting patiently. "Stand up," he growled. When the male took too long to rise, Drogo grasped him by the collar, yanking him to his feet.

"What's the matter?" he said, his calm voice contradicting his actions. His face was inches from the smaller cat. "Can't hurt someone who can fight back, someone who isn't _female_?"

He held Tuco in place as his fist pummeled him in the stomach. Tuco again doubled over, coughing and gagging violently.

All Inca could do was watch. She had never seen Drogo be violent before. There was always that tendency, lurking behind the charm and the smiles and gentle caresses.

She knew the same hands that held her tight at night, that brought her immense pleasure, were also armed with lethal claws. His station as a senior Cleric had to have been earned in battle by those very claws.

And it was those claws that were currently mangling Tuco. He had once again grabbed the jaguar around his throat, claws digging. Rivulets of blood could be seen running down his neck where Drogo's claws had punctured, staining his clothing.

The lion beat him mercilessly, some of the blows echoing dully against the walls. Inca flinched inwardly with some of them. She knew that Drogo's temper was getting the better of him. She needed to stop this if she didn't want a death to occur.

She hesitated but eventually made her way over to them. Inca hated Tuco for what he had done, would probably hate him for rest of her days. However, she did not want his blood to be on Drogo's hands.

So she placed a slender hand on his shoulder, staying him when he would have ripped Tuco's throat out. He looked at her, incredulous at the interruption. "My love," she said. "Leave him. I think he has learned his lesson."

"Alive?" Drogo asked, still holding Tuco's now limp body. "You want me to leave him alive, after what he did to you, what he _would_ have done to you again?" It was obviously difficult to understand. His eyes glowed with the need to kill. She'd never seen them so vicious.

Inca placed her hand on the hand still holding Tuco. "He is not worth it. If you kill him, he would have learned nothing, and you will be taken into custody for murder." She leaned in closer, making sure to get his full attention. "And I will not be parted from you."

Drogo considered her for a moment, divided between his own desire to relieve her assailant of his life, and her logic in erring on the side of wisdom. He finally decided to run with her idea, and relinquished his hold on Tuco. The jaguar slumped to the ground, barely conscious.

"At the very least, we can help him on his way," Drogo stated before walking to Tuco's stand. He literally destroyed it, lifting the entire structure and flipping it over, causing most of the items upon it to break. He ripped the fabric covering with his claws, rending it to pieces.

No one would buy from a stand in such a state.

Having at least killed _something_, Drogo returned to his mate. The couple turned to leave, content that Tuco had been sufficiently dealt with. But as they reached the end of the way, Tuco's voice, though weakened, floated to their ears.

"She may be yours, _lion_," he dribbled through split lips, one eye already darkening and swollen nearly shut. "But no matter how many times you hold her, no matter how many times you _fuck_ her, _I_ was her first." He smiled lasciviously despite his injuries. "She will _never_ forget me."

Drogo's growl began in his chest, growing in intensity into a full snarl, but Inca took a firm grip on his arm. "Keep walking, my love. Forget him. He is but a ghost."

He quieted, hugging her closer to him like a lifeline as they took their leave. "I will do as you ask, this time," he said, his voice calm once more.

But as they reached the entrance to the merchant district, he stopped, turning her toward him. "But if he ever comes near you again, Inca," he warned his eyes burning with barely reigned emotion. "Nothing will stop me, not even you. I _will_ kill him."

Inca placed her hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her. Her touch was a balm to his rage, his shame at not being there to protect her from again enduring that scum's touch. "If that day comes, _toteotzin_," she murmured. "You will have no objection from me."

He found himself smiling, a little, despite himself. _My love_, she had called him. He could not help but feel better when she uttered those words. It sounded even more meaningful in her tongue. He pulled her close, leading his mate home.

When they arrived home, Drogo could see how listless and quiet she had gotten. She just went to a chair and sat down, turning her face away. When he asked her what was wrong, she was silent for a long time.

He nearly asked her again, but she finally answered. "I froze." Her voice was so small, he almost couldn't hear her. "All these years, all the training I've done, the fighting I've learned…" she muttered almost to herself. "I finally see Tuco again, the _reason_ for gaining my skills, and I was _helpless_."

She felt the tears slide unhindered down her cheeks as her rape played over and over in her head. How could she have stood there like some weakling, useless female? How had she been unable to do _anything_?

Drogo came to her, pulling her from her chair and leading her to their bedroom. He lay her down on the bed, moving himself up behind her. Winding his arms around her torso just under her breasts, he simply listened.

She was utterly disappointed in herself, and he knew that there were no words he could say that would make her feel any better, none that wouldn't sound like coddling. She held herself to a high standard, had served as a bodyguard for her best friend for many years. Of course she was upset.

So he listened, and held her as she cried, and continued to hold her as she fell asleep, the salt tracks drying on her face.

_Love_, he thought to her as she slept, sad for her inner turmoil. _Don't you know I would protect you regardless?_ He understood her feelings, but she was his to protect, his to love and to cherish.

He had not lied to her. He would break Tuco if he saw him again. The trash's last comment kept running through his mind. _…I was her first. She will never forget me._

Drogo thought once again on how he should have killed him. Perhaps he could do so without Inca knowing. He threw that thought away. No, he had promised.

His mind turned to the ceremony they would soon be having in a month's time. He knew exactly how to make Inca feel better. Once the idea was conceived, his spirits lifted, and he made his plans, all the while sheltering his mate while she slept.

* * *

_Approx.. 3 weeks later_

Inca sat at home, reading her favorite book. At least, she was trying to. Her busy mind however was preventing her from getting further than the same two sentences. She was tired of waiting, and her impatience was turning to worry.

What was taking Drogo so long? He said that the business he was attending to would take him out of Thundera for no longer than two weeks. Her it was, a week _longer_ than he'd promised, and all sorts of horrifying scenarios were going through Inca's mind.

She stood up, laying the book on her chair, and started pacing. What if something had happened to him? She walked to the window for the umpteenth time, looking toward the lane he had departed by. He had left with such determination, but now...

Inca sighed hopelessly. What would she do if he had…had been hurt, or...or killed? Maybe he was out there, needing someone…needing her.

A large hand suddenly landed on her shoulder, making the jaguaress jump. She turned around, looking into eyes that were nearly identical, but blue.

Hadrian patted her, trying to comfort her. "Do not worry so," he said confidently. "My brother is too stubborn, and much too in love with you to let something keep him from returning. Don't worry. I'm sure something just delayed him. He _will_ return."

Tessa came in, tall and beautiful as always, with a tray bearing tea and snacks. "I agree. With all the stories Hadrian told me about Drogo, nothing will keep him from coming back. Here, have some."

She placed the tray on the little table in the room, and they all sat down to indulge.

"I hope you are right," Inca said, her tone unsure. Before Drogo had left, he had sent for his brother. He had not wanted to take any chances after their encounter with Tuco. Hadrian had come quickly, bringing his mate, Tessa.

The pair would stay with Inca until Drogo's return. At first, Inca had found no need. Now she was grateful for the company. Who knows how worried she would have been and what she might have done if left to her own devices?

So they sipped their tea and ate their refreshments in peace. Tessa tried to distract Inca by speaking of the mating ceremony and how beautiful she would look. The tigress pointed out how her dress would complement her eyes and beautiful spots.

The trio went out to enjoy the warm, breezy afternoon, taking a walk to the orchards and eventually to the palace to meet up with some of their friends there.

That night, Inca struggled to rest, lying in bed while her worry kept her up into the wee hours of the morning, when she finally fell asleep.

She woke to the feeling of a warm, familiar arm around her. Before she even opened her eyes she was smiling. His scent was all she knew, enveloping her in his comfort. She found him awake when she turned in his arms.

She must have been so sound asleep she hadn't noticed when he'd returned or when he'd joined her on their bed. Worrying had exhausted her.

Her happiness was so sharp she kissed him full on the mouth, tightening her arms around him. "Damn you for taking so long!" she cried between kisses. "I was worried sick!"

Drogo waited her to finish clucking at him then dragged her mouth to his once more for a real kiss, long and deep.

She blushed, her eyes still closed. "What took you?" she asked breathily.

He pecked her again, bumping his head against hers. "You'll see." He was excited for Inca, for what he had planned. He was even happier to be back.

Tuco, and the threat he could have posed to her in his absence, had been heavy on his mind during his travels.

He knew Hadrian would never let anything happen to her. His brother was just as large and capable in a fight as he was, and his mate Tessa was rumored to be even more ferocious.

But Drogo was of a mind that there was no better protector of what was his, than himself.

So it was a huge relief when he returned early in the morning to find his mate unharmed, sleeping peacefully. He'd simply climbed into bed, too happy to sleep, to wait for her to awaken.

Judging by her roaming hands and fervent, passionate kisses, she was just as relieved and excited. And as they disrobed each other, almost desperate in their eagerness, the day took on a much better turn for them both.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

* * *

**One more chapter to go!**


	6. Reunion

**(Thundercats 2011)**

**Book I – Drogo x Inca**

**A/N - First thing I want to do is a giant DOGEZA for taking so LONG to get this out. But I will say I have honest excuses. Between writer's block and a couple of really difficult parts to write in this chapter, I think I deserve a little slack. I mean, the document was 27 pages long, so at least I'm giving you a good, long read (the longest chapter to date for me).**

**Also - I will go ahead and say that this will be (at least for a time) my LAST Thundercats fic. I am hoping to focus on my other projects, including my Mercy Thompson and Dragon Age fics as well as my original work, so this fandom will be on the veritable back burner for a while. I do apologize to my Tcats fans, but I may write more at a later date. I hope you enjoyed what I did write.**

**I want to thank all my readers, even the ones who did not review. I got your love in the faves and follows. A special thank you to the ones who did take the time to let me know what you thought. Seriously, I felt like a kid on Christmas when I got emails to let me know I had them. I loved to hear what you had to say. You are greatly appreciated!**

**To my most faithful readers of this story:**

**Bronwynn**

**EzzieSkull**

**EmperorofRome**

**XEHX**

**Ronald Mitchell**

**You guys ROCK! Thank you! :D**

**Anyway, thanks again, and enjoy. As always, please read and review! I proofread and made corrections, but I may have missed something, so please let me know. Go grab a drink and get comfortable, 'cause this is a long one!**

* * *

******NAHUATL TRANSLATION****S**

**Toteotzin – Lord (but for my purposes, Love)**

**Tatzintli - father**

**Cihuanton - little girl**

**Pipiotzin - little chicken**

**Mochipa nimitztlahzoa - I will love you always**

**Louco - crazy**

******************DISCLAIMER: I do not own Thundercats or have any affiliation with the creators, producers, etc., nor do I receive any compensation for this work.**

* * *

**Ch. 6 - Reunion**

_1 week later…_

The preparations were complete. Inca checked herself over one last time. She was ready, ready to face the small congregation that had gathered for their ceremony.

Hopefully Leia would be satisfied with the proceedings. Inca was usually shy about being in front of crowds, however small. But Leia was the closest cat she had to a sister while she was away from her homeland, and she wanted to make the event special.

Leia had helped Inca get ready, clucking over how beautiful she was _ad nauseum_. She had finally left once she was satisfied with the jaguar's appearance. Inca had secretly been grateful.

She certainly hoped her friend would be as diligent when her _own_ mating ceremony to the prince took place. After all, that would be a much more extravagant event to be sure!

A small knock on the door took Inca out of her musings. _Who could it be now?_ she thought irritably, moving to the door_. If it's Leia again…_ She knew how to get to the ceremony hall without an escort, so…?

When she cracked the door, her eyes flew wide.

"_T-Tatzintli?_"She blinked several times, unbelieving of what she was seeing. How could her father be here? Her confusion must have been obvious. The tall jaguar stared at the daughter whom he had missed so greatly. The way they had parted…

"Hello, _cihuanton_," he said, his eyes misty. He entered and immediately hugged Inca close, her head, complete with shocked face, fitting just under his chin. His heart was made glad by her familiar scent. His steady purr was a comforting sound against her ear.

"Oh, my little one, how I've missed you." He murmured softly.

Inca was speechless, her throat choked with emotion. It was so overwhelming to see her father again after so long, and on today of all days. She was shocked, excited, and uncertain all at the same time.

Despite those feelings, it felt right to be in her papa's arms again. Pride and shame had kept her from returning, from having the much-needed conversation with her parents.

But now, she had a second chance. Her arms clasped him tightly, and she felt the moisture come to her eyes.

When they finally released their embrace, Horace smiled sadly at his daughter. "I am so sorry for what happened, Inca. I was a foolish idiot, and I did not support you when you needed me the most."

When Inca saw the tears in Horace's eyes, her own began to overflow. He bowed his head, completely contrite. "Please forgive me," he said.

She dabbed at her eyes, trying not to ruin the work Leia had done. "Of course I forgive you, father. I should not have left like I did, in the middle of the night like a thief."

He shook his head. "I understand why you did. I was acting so foul toward you. When I remember the things I said both to and in your presence…" He shook his head again. "I was horrible to you, my dear."

Inca wanted to get past all that, not wanting to relive those ugly feelings. But she was curious. "How did you come to be here?" she asked, changing the subject. Their homeland was a long way away. And for that matter… "How did you even know where I was?"

"It is interesting, really," he explained. "I was just thinking of you that day, wondering where you were, if you were happy, wanting desperately to speak with you. Imagine how surprised I was when I was called to greet a guest, who happened to be the darkest, largest lion I have ever seen, in my home."

Inca gasped. _Drogo_. Drogo had gone to her father's home all the way in Mazatlàn and brought him here. So _that_ was why he had left her for so long! It took over a week at least to reach their home directly from Thundera, maybe a little less if one hurried.

She smiled fully, grateful to her mate for being so very thoughtful on such a special day. She had to remember to thank him properly when this was all over.

Her father moved to her side, presenting an elbow to her. "I am certain we have much to discuss, but I think someone is waiting for you. And I am much honored to be here, and to walk my little girl down the aisle." His eyes shone with pride. "Shall we go?"

As he led her to the ceremony room, Inca felt the painful burden of the falling out she had with her father leave her. Everything was falling into place, and she couldn't be happier.

That was, until she entered the hall and saw her mother and siblings sitting in the audience as well. Her face split with a smile from ear to ear, especially when her gaze connected with her sister, who had been her best friend growing up.

Maya smiled at her, her hands coming to cover her mouth when she saw her big sister, looking so beautiful in her green gown, for the first time in so long. She couldn't wait to wrap her arms around her!

She wouldn't even mind being called _Pipiotzin_ again.

Her brother smiled, giving a small wave. He always was a shy one. He'd grown so tall, had filled out his lanky body so well. Inca wondered if he had a mate in mind. His age of maturity had come and gone.

She could not wait to pick his brain about it.

Her mother looked on her with gentle, excited eyes bright with tears. Erzine would have wanted to have participated in all the preparations, but the situation was of a special nature, and she was just happy to be here to see her daughter be happy.

When the lion had spoken with her and Horace, showing such a fierce love and protectiveness for their daughter, Erzine had known that he Inca had found someone worthy of her.

That in and of itself had warmed Erzine's heart. She could die knowing her daughter would be cared for.

Horace escorted Inca up to where Drogo was waiting. When Inca finally turned her eyes to him, they were lit up with gratitude and love.

He found he could not move his gaze from hers if he had wanted to. She was so beautiful, and her joy colored her face in a glow he'd never seen before. He certainly wanted to see that look on her face more often.

Her father looked so proud. Drogo was relieved that their reunion had not be a negative experience. He had had his own words with Horace regarding his past treatment of Inca, telling him that she had needed his understanding and support, not his censure.

Her father had been apologetic, too caught up in remorse to be affronted at the younger male's chastisement. He had expressed an interest in seeing his daughter again. The whole family had.

Drogo had informed them that his purpose for coming to Mazatlàn had in fact been to bring them back to see their lost family member.

He had then told them why, that Inca was his mate, and would become so publicly in a ceremony. Horace had been taken aback by the announcement, and Drogo knew that optimally, the older cat would have preferred his daughter mate another jaguar.

But Horace's obsession with advancing his lineage had lessened over the years, especially with what had happened with his oldest. He was now more concerned with his children finding happiness rather than familial duty.

It probably helped that his son Chupa had actually made a successful match with a young jaguaress who had fit the ideal perfectly.

The delight in the situation was that Chupa loved the girl. It hadn't started out that way, but the two had found similarities with one another that had led to a quick friendship and even quicker affection.

Now, two of his children would be mated and happy. Horace couldn't be more pleased, and his face showed it as he handed Inca over to Drogo.

Inca smiled gratefully up at her mate. She was so filled with appreciation and contentment that he was so thoughtful. Never would she have imagined he would go through such lengths to please her.

Mazatlàn was not a short distance from Thundera by any means, and for him to go all the way there to retrieve her family definitely proved his love for her.

She looked forward to spending the rest of her life with him.

Drogo pulled her closer, and as they turned to the shaman the rest of the hall settled in for the ceremony.

* * *

The ceremony went quickly, thankfully. Once it was complete, and Drogo had kissed Inca senseless, the congregation moved to the banquet hall for the reception.

Inca immediately ran to her mother and siblings, sharing furious hugs and kisses. Tears were shared all around, and they all went to sit down and talk at the table reserved for the couple and their close friends and family.

Jaga and Jorel approached Drogo, Jorel giving him a friendly pat on his back. "Congratulations, my friend. You've _finally_ settled down." He gave him a poke in the ribs with his elbow. "I knew this one was special when you stayed the whole night with her."

Drogo poked him back, nearly toppling the male over. "Shh! Mentor is standing right here," he whispered derisively. Both cats turned awkward eyes to their leader.

Jaga chuckled, alarming both Clerics. "Please. I was young once too." He set a hand on Ona's shoulder, the healer seeming to have materialized out of thin air. The two walked over to the food table, thick as thieves.

Drogo looked on awkwardly. "Who'd have thought even the Mentor would have someone?" He was shocked when Jorel shrugged.

"Why wouldn't he?" Jorel said. "He _is_ my father after all. Did you think he grew me in a lab? He's been with my mother for years."

"She's your mother?!" The lion cast another glance at the happy couple, his eyes astonished. "I never knew." It hurt a little that his best friend hadn't confided in him about it.

"Yep," Jorel said, his voice uncommonly casual. "We were keeping mum about it for the sake of their careers, but what's the point now?" He'd been drinking since they had come in, which was starting to relax the young Cleric from his usual taciturn bearing.

He smirked. "Obviously Mom has something that keeps him coming back," he told Drogo.

Without another word, Jorel went to join Talli where she was talking with Tessa and Hadrian. _Apparently many things have changed_, Drogo thought. Or perhaps they never had? He just hadn't noticed them. At least Jorel had had a good reason to keep this from him.

Watching the Grand Cleric and his…mate? select their food before sitting themselves at a table, Drogo decided to stop trying to figure it all out. He shook his head, speechless, and made his way back to his mate and her family.

Inca was listening intently to Chupa as he was talking about his mate, the small, black female seated next to him. She seemed shy. Her name was Nana.

They had met at the Gathering two years before. She had come from a small yet proud clan who had only accepted Chupa's mating offer when their daughter had assured them of her approval.

The rest was history. The young couple was expecting their first cub. Nana's shy smile complemented by rich, intense honey-colored eyes made Inca instantly like her. Her seemingly demure attitude hid a fierce spirit. Her brother had done well.

When Drogo made it to Inca, he wound his arms around her waist, nuzzling his chin against her hair as he pulled her back against him. She was tense at first, but relaxed against him.

They had been working on the PDA thing, deciding on a compromise. Drogo would not be too obviously affectionate, so as not to make Inca uncomfortable, but he explained that sometimes he _had_ to touch her. It was just part of who he was.

So Inca decided that some things were okay. She smiled up at him, and continued to listen to all the events she had missed over the years.

Maya had taken up the musical arts, something she had always professed an interest in. Apparently she excelled at both instrument and voice, much to the delight of their mother Erzine, who was also accomplished in the skill.

The two often spent hours making music, sometimes with one playing while the other sang or both singing or playing instruments. Erzine expressed that she would miss Maya when she finally mated and left their home.

Inca was proud of both of her siblings, of their accomplishments and happiness. She was also sad to have missed them all, having been away for five years. Her sibs were her first friends, the closest ones she had before meeting Leia.

Her heart ached for all the lost time.

The guests looked on as the couple opened their gifts, many of them practical and some aesthetic or fun. The two had a great laugh over the inventiveness and humor of their friends.

After all the gifts were opened, Jorel handed Drogo the gift purchased at the market that fateful day. Drogo had wanted to present his gift to his mate personally, and he prayed she would love it.

Inca opened the rectangular, mint green box, careful not to ruin the beautiful lavender bow. Her mate watched her face, waiting for her reaction.

Her eyes widened as she reached into the box, pulling from it a beautifully-crafted obsidian dagger, its black blade glittering in the light of the room. She looked closer, seeing an engraving at the base of the blade.

_ "Mochipa nimitztlahzoa_," it read.

Inca's eyes watered. "I will love you always," she translated. She smiled up at Drogo, her eyes shining. "Thank you so much," she said softly, trying not to cry.

What a unique and thoughtful gift!

Obsidian was yet another precious commodity found in her homeland. In fact, it was sought after by many, as it was a malleable material that could be used to make light, deadly weapons such as her dagger.

She couldn't imagine using it as a weapon, as obsidian blades were rare and often broke if used wrongly. But they also cut very cleanly, and were dangerous in unskilled hands. She would put it on display in their home, as a reminder of just how generous the gods had been to her.

Drogo looked on as she continued to inspect his gift, a grin on his face. He had hoped she would love the dagger, something that would remind her a little of her home. It would seem his choice had been a success.

He was happy that the idea to put the words on the dagger had come just as he had entered the city with Inca's family. Her father had helped him with the translation. Drogo had dropped the dagger off with the engraver before going home and picked it up a couple days before their ceremony.

It had been a good decision.

Inca embraced and kissed him before placing the dagger back into its box for safekeeping. She placed it with their other gifts as the music began playing. Her hand was immediately taken, and Drogo swept her about the dance floor, other couples joining in.

Tygra and Cheetara had come, along with nearly all the Clerics in support of Drogo and his new mate. The two danced, smiling lovingly at one another, talking quietly. It was nice to see their prince so happy.

Their daughter, Princess Astrid, was being held by her grandfather, King Claudus, who could not get enough of the little one even when she grabbed his mane roughly. His smile was both delight and pain as he played with her.

Inca saw Leia happily dancing with Lion-O, who seemed to have matured greatly since they had first come to this land.

Actually, both of them had. Where Lion-O had at one time been shy, lazy, and seemingly disinclined to be king, he was now more involved, and was even proactive in seeking more responsibilities. Claudus had been relieved.

Leia, once insecure and oftentimes prone to whining when things didn't go her way, now carried herself with the grace and authority of a queen. She would definitely be a force to be reckoned with.

Inca was proud of both of them, and happy that she could now focus on her own happiness.

Said happiness whisked her about like a professional, and as she looked on his face Inca could not help but feel that all was well in the world for her. In his loving gaze she found definite concord.

The party ended shortly after, and it was all the better for Inca and Drogo. They were most eager to be alone. Drogo had whispered of something special tonight, and she couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

They had decided to stay near Thundera, neither really feeling the need to journey too far away. It didn't diminish anything in their eyes. They knew they could celebrate just fine wherever they were.

Drogo had arranged for them to stay the night at an inn that boasted of a hot spring. Inca had never even been to a hot spring, and neither had Drogo, so she was very excited to spend such a new experience together with him.

Once all the guests had departed, the two went to pay their respects to Jaga, who was also readying himself to leave. Drogo was taken aback when Inca bowed alongside him, something she had never done before. That was his Order's way of greeting the Grand Cleric.

What was going on?

"Inca..?" he began, but was cut off. "I wanted to tell you sooner," she explained. "But I think this is as good a time as any. I have been thinking a long time about my purpose now that Leia does not need me as a guard."

Her insecurity about his reaction showed on her face. "I approached Jaga while you were away, and asked him if there was any room in the Clerics for me." She smiled at Jaga.

The Grand Cleric returned her smile. "I was more than happy to accept her. Her skills and knowledge will be a great addition to our Order. Once she has passed my tests, I think she will fit in quite well."

Drogo's eyebrows lifted in surprise; his mate…a Cleric? This was an interesting development.

He had his misgivings, of course. Would they be able to see each other as often if she was on duty away from him or vice versa? Was he okay with the danger her new station could bring?

And when they had cubs…that would open up a whole new set of concerns.

He put those thoughts out of his mind for the moment. They would speak of those things later. And perhaps it would be a good experience for her, now that he thought about it.

He was never one to restrict her, and he would back her up with whatever decision she made. She was his mate after all, and they were in this together.

So he smiled, and clutched Inca close to his side, smiling. "I am happy for you, my love. I know you will do just fine." They finished speaking with Jaga before the Grand Cleric bid them farewell.

The two left for their destination, both excited.

The spring was in a small village not too far from the northern outskirts of the city, situated at the foot of Mount Felis. They climbed off their mounts, both looking at the inn in anticipation.

The innkeeper, an old ocelot, had her staff take in their luggage and see to their Monteracs. She ushered them to a beautiful room at the end of a hall with a scenic view of the mountain on one side and of the city on the other.

Inca sighed as she took in the scenery, the moon high in the sky.

"This is perfect, Drogo!" she exclaimed, content after such a busy, emotional day. "However did you find this?" She relaxed as he came up behind her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her neck.

"There are advantages to being a Cleric," he murmured, his cheek tickling her ear. "You learn to listen to all the conversations around you. I heard two older females talking about this place when I was out and about one day. They were going on and on, so I asked about it."

Drogo had reserved the inn in its entirety. Inca could not begin to imagine how much that had cost him, but when she had asked him about it, he had told her that she was worth it.

He turned her away from the window so that her rump was resting on the edge of it, giving her a quick kiss. "I came to have a look, and I just knew you'd love it. The view, the springs…" He put his face in her neck, and she felt his hot tongue slide against her heated flesh. "…the privacy..."

Inca was putty in his arms, and gloried in the shiver his skillful hands and mouth caused.

There was no need for words. The mates were on the same wavelength, as they had been from nearly the start of their acquaintance with one another.

All it took was a few caresses, and bits of clothing pulled down or moved aside, and they made love against the windowsill, the moonlight kissing their entwined bodies.

After, the two secured some towels, locked their room, and made their way down to the springs. They shed their towels quietly, neither feeling the need to speak.

The water was pristine, and as the two slipped in, both released sighs of bliss at the perfect temperature.

Inca basked in the heat of the water, gazing at Drogo from under her lashes. She could see him laying back, relaxing against the stone edge of the bath, his eyes closed.

Being as quiet as the water would allow, Inca edged over to her mate, wrapping her arms around his middle and kissing his neck. His chest rumbled as he half growled, half purred, his pleasure at her touch palpable.

His arms came up to caress her back, one of them cupping the back of her head as her mouth worked along his jawline. Her lips and tongue were glorious, leaving love bites down to his chest, where she promptly wrapped her mouth around a nipple, taking it from flat to a puckered bead instantly.

Drogo took a fistful of her hair. It was painful pleasure as he felt her small fangs nip his skin, followed by her tongue swiping after. He pulled her head up, growling as he plunged his tongue into her mouth.

His control was tested when he felt her hands caress him, moving ever lower as their mouths worked.

When he felt her palming his groin, rubbing up and down against his hardening shaft, he reached for her hands. He switched their positions, putting her against the stone wall as her gasping voice tinkled like bells in his ears.

He pinned her hands behind her back, the action causing her breasts to push out and up, perfect for his questing mouth. He used his free hand to lift a globe to his mouth.

He stroked and sucked, nipped and blew, playing with her as she moaned under his touch, wriggling against the slick stone edge of the bath. Her scent enticed him, tantalized him, aroused him.

As their passionate touches and kisses intensified, Drogo became less patient with their mouth play, finally letting her hands go so he could lift her from the water to lay her at its edge.

He ran his hands down her body, down her beautiful thighs, calves, and ankles. Her body trembled, briefly registering the cooler air against her wet skin before the feel of her mate's touch superseded all other stimulation.

Drogo eased her legs over his shoulders, his hands and claws leaving tingles of pleasure along the backs of her thighs. His hands teased her, gripped her, as his mouth kissed her inner thighs, ever closer to his goal.

When he made it there, to that place, he hummed in pleasure against her flesh, reveling in the taste of her. His tongue drew in her essence, eager for her uniquely sweet flavor. Her hips floated up on their own with the movements of his tongue, her pleasure swelling with each swipe, each pluck of his lips.

She grabbed his hair, digging her claws in to scratch against his scalp. "Mmm," she purred, her back arching. Her ability to make coherent words left her, the sensations too much.

Drogo could feel her end approaching in the thighs quivering ever more against his ears. He could sense the subtle changes in her taste, her scent, and adjusted the speed of his movements to draw it out. He didn't want her to come just yet.

When she came, he wanted to be inside her.

When her coos, purrs, and moans became too much, her body beaconing, he lifted his mouth, simultaneously sliding her back in the water a bit. Inca knew what would come next, and her hands drifted to his length, her hand encasing him possessively.

He growled lowly, seeking her mouth. The two tasted of each other deeply while he positioned her just where he wanted her. Her legs settled automatically around his waist, opening her just in time for his first thrust.

They tasted each other's moans when they finally joined. He pushed into her repeatedly, his hands braced against her hips. She wrapped her arms about his neck, trusting the water and her lover to keep her where he needed her to be.

Drogo kept his movements slow, even though he discerned that Inca craved a faster pace.

But he controlled his urge to pound into her. He wanted to draw the experience out longer, to make love to his mate slowly and deeply.

His hands restrained her hips when she tried to impale herself on his shaft, jerking herself downward. She made a frustrated sound against his lips.

He dipped his head, moving his lips down along her neck until he reached her shoulder area. He nuzzled her, purring against her skin as he continued to lazily thrust within her.

He would know when to increase his pace. Her body would tell him. He'd be able to sense it in the squeezing of her insides, the desperate grasp of her claws, the dulcet tones of her voice.

He'd know, and he'd react as any good lover would.

And there it was. She was tightening on him, her claws clutching his neck and head. "Aaaah," she moaned softly, but he knew her voice would rise. She rubbed her face against his head before tipping her head back.

Instantly his teeth bit down as his movements sped up. The water sloshed against the sides of the spring, but neither cat cared. Inca's cries grew louder, more guttural, until she finally exploded in Drogo's arms.

He continued thrusting, driving into her madly until he too reached his climax. His jaws released her, his head thrown back with a groan. His hips jerked for a bit, and then he was done.

Drogo pulled his mind back together, observing at his mate. Her panting had subsided, and she was gazing languidly at him, reclining against the side. Her lips tilted up in a smile.

Not a word was spoken as he pulled out of her, his arms gathering her to him. They rested their foreheads against each other, their breathing blending, their smiles and soft laughs telling of their love for each other.

They would love each other many times that night, in the spring, in their room, taking short naps only to wake up to arousal again and again.

Sleep would finally come as the sun crested the horizon, intertwined and perfectly secure in the unbreakable bond they shared.

* * *

Back in Thundera, in a dilapidated shanty of a house in the peasant quarter, Tuco sat with his guests. They were speaking of secret, violent things, of a plan to bring someone harm. Planning had been careful, to observe the target to learn habits, favorite places.

He had seen the festivities, watched from the dark periphery, hidden from view. He had seen the prideful father, the complacent, utterly clueless mother, oblivious siblings. He had seen the crowd of friends, their cries of happiness a cacophony to his ears.

And then, he's seen _her_, the one who should be his, who was _still_ his as far as he was concerned. She had worn an emerald gown that had complimented her golden coloring and shimmering green eyes perfectly.

He had wanted to break his concealment, grasp her in his arms, take her right there on the cold ground, and claim her before one and all. She belonged to him, and despite her delusions to the contrary, she would _always_ belong to him.

But then he had also seen _him_, the lion…the nuisance, the _obstacle_ blocking his and Inca's happiness together. He needed to be rid of him quickly, permanently. Tuco recognized that the sheer size of the giant cat was too much for him to handle on his own.

That was where his "guests" came into play. He entertained them as best he could, the lot of them lost in the throes of drink. It was a celebration of their agreement, of what he had paid them for.

He reclined in his chair, his mind traveling back to Mazatlàn, to his mistakes. If only he had _marked_ Inca, he would not have had to endure all this trouble. There she had been, limp as a wet rag, and he had ran like a skittish fool before completing the deed!

And not only that, since she had not borne his mark, he had been told that what their loving had been _rape_! Her blithering snob of a father had spared no one's ears from hearing his account of what had happened to his oh-so-innocent daughter.

The girl had nearly fucked him not 24 hours prior, and he was accused of raping her?!

Tuco scoffed into his goblet, causing some of the contents to spill over. He took no notice, his mind lost in scorn and indignation. All of his problems would have been avoided had he just done what he'd set out to do in the first place.

Had he done, his father would not, upon hearing Horace's overly dramatic stories, have disowned and banished him, leaving him penniless and having to fall back on the family's trade to keep himself fed.

The Tlalocs had not personally sold their wares in generations, the clan having amassed enough wealth to pay others to produce and sell for them while taking in most of the profits.

It had only been recently that they had seen a lull in their livelihood and felt the need to add another powerful clan to theirs through mating to help uplift them.

It was supposed to have happened in their son's mating to a suitable female. But that obviously had not gone according to plan.

Now, Tuco had to lower himself to the rank of a common peddler. He'd even had to resort to thievery at times in order to survive!

He'd had to spend most of his coin to purchase whores for this lot, just to keep them entertained long enough to listen to him and his plans. He'd have to scrounge up enough to pay them later.

He remembered how he had been labeled a disgrace, a predator of females, and promptly run from their village. It had only been through the mercy of a trade caravan headed to Thundera that he had lived.

When he had run into Inca again, he had thought his luck changed.

But then he'd seen the mark, the _taint_ of that lion on her body. Their scents were comingled, practically the same now. She would never be as she was before.

But she could still be his.

Soon…soon they would scourge the lion, who had dared to try and take what was his, from the world.

And Tuco would lay waste to Inca, possess her once more. This time he wouldn't stop until she belonged solely to him, carried his scent and his mark, his cubs.

And he would keep her close to him forever. Then she would love him…eventually.

He felt his erection stretching his breeches at the thought. It was too much; it had been so long. He needed release so badly. Unfortunately his hand would have to tie him over until he could have Inca.

He rose from his seat, making his way through the revelry to his tiny room to the back of the house. Some of the couples had already began copulating, having no care for their surroundings.

Tuco paid them no mind, closing the door quietly behind him.

The full darkness was only illuminated by the full moon, her light shining into the tiny window on the wall. At least the true filth of this place was hidden without the sun. How low he had fallen!

Lying on his shoddily-constructed bed with its pathetic pile of dirty rags for bedding, the jaguar eased his pants downward, just enough for the task. As he seized his throbbing flesh in his hand, he let his mind wander, the sounds of lust from several couples filtering in from the outer room.

He could not wait to taste of her again. She had been so good, so tight, so arousing, as she had writhed beneath him, her coy attempts to dissuade him making her all the more alluring.

The heady sensation of conquering her virgin flesh had nearly finished him before he'd started.

True, Inca had resisted at first, as most upstanding females would, but soon she had relaxed and let him finish. And he had never come so hard in his life, the memory of it stirring his groin every time. It had been heaven to have her.

And he would have her again, very soon.

She would lie beneath him every night, taking the thrust of his hips, the spray of his seed. She would bear him strong sons, beautiful daughters. She would be there, by his side, always.

That thought was enough to send him over, and as the viscous heat of his semen shot forth, oozing over his hand, he flung his head back against the thin pillow with a grunt, jerking with his final strokes.

It was as his heart and breathing was returning to normal that his thoughts moved from pleasure and possession to revenge.

Tuco swore the lion would pay for his embarrassment that day in the market, for interrupting his moment with Inca. The fool had cheated him out of his second chance with her, and now that he had help, Tuco was assured there would be no disturbances the next time he was alone with her.

He lay back, gazing up at the ceiling, his now flaccid length lying forgotten against his stomach. The smile on his face accompanied the dark delusions dancing in his mind, painting a picture of his future life with Inca.

_Yes, I will have you again_, he thought, his smile taking a twisted edge, in the moonlit darkness.

* * *

_2 weeks later_

Drogo put the finishing touches on the scroll he had worked on for the last few hours detailing the conclusion of a Clerical mission. He was eager to finish the report, as the evening was approaching.

He could not wait to go home to see his Inca. He felt the familiar jolt of excitement at the thought of her. It wasn't just his love of her that made him eager.

He had caught the subtle changes in her scent, the slight wistful lilt in her voice that signaled her oncoming heat cycle. She'd also been more affectionate in public, not something she was usually comfortable doing.

He was so excited thinking of the cubs they would make together.

So his movements were hurried as he set all the scrolls back in order and locked the room behind him. He left the Hall, walking past the palace and the formation of Soldiers that was situated there.

Hadrian was putting them through their paces, practicing the drills and techniques all Soldiers were supposed to know. When he saw his brother passing, he called everyone to a halt, allowing the grateful troops to rest in place.

"Drogo!" he called, jogging over to the Cleric. He smiled as he caught up to him and saw the grin Drogo was sporting. "Well, aren't we chipper this evening? Where are we headed, as if I didn't know?"

His brother rolled his eyes. "Which leads to the question of why you would ask then," he said laconically. "I am headed home, of course. If my nose isn't fooling me, Inca should be in season soon, and I definitely plan on being there to offer my services."

Hadrian's eyes widened a touch. "Really? Well I guess you'd better get to it. Man, there's nothing like it. My Tessa…wow. It's like you can't stop, like you have unlimited stamina. It's amazing." The captain's face took on a dreamy expression.

"Well, her pregnancy's a good sign of that," Drogo said sarcastically. "I can't wait to see what _our_ cubs will look like. I imagine spotted with a dark mane or dark and spotted, maybe even black like her mother…so many possibilities!"

Hadrian patted his brother's shoulder. "That there is, Brother. Maybe they won't have manes at all. Who knows? I wish you luck in your breeding endeavors. I know things will go fine. Tell me about it later," he joked, smiling mischievously. "And I want details!"

Drogo huffed at his nosy sibling. "On that note, I'll go. See you later." He continued on his way, shaking his head. It was great to see his older brother back to his facetious ways. It was the best sign that he was happy with his life back in Thundera.

Drogo was happy to have at least one member of his family still near. The rest of the clan had journeyed back home after the mate selection for Lion-O had completed.

Their parents had died long ago, while he and Hadrian had still been very young, having succumbed to a debilitating disease. They had had the siblings taken from the home so they would not fall victim to the same fate.

Drogo hardly remembered his parents, but he missed them all the same.

Despite the Blackmanes' candidate not being selected, it was expected that they would return to see the prince mated as well. It was a gesture of respect.

He was sure Eva would be thrilled with that, the thought making him smile. That would bring her down from her high horse. She deserved no less for being an absolute snob.

He turned down the alleyway he usually took as a shortcut on his way home. The evening was panning out to be mild with a slight, cool breeze. _Just perfect for making babies with my hot mate_, Drogo thought to himself.

It was because of his mind was focused elsewhere that he didn't sense the coming attack. He had just noticed the scent of another cat when a large body slammed into him from the side, driving him into a wall.

Momentarily stunned, Drogo looked up in time to receive a downward punch to his face, bloodying his lip. Realizing he was under attack, the lion gave his head a shake, stood tall, and prepared to square off with his assailant.

He gave the leopard, a mercenary judging by his appearance, an assessing look. The male was large, nearly as large as Drogo, and wore a uniformly dingy set of brown leather clothing. He didn't seem to be armed until he pulled a short sword from a hidden scabbard.

This was serious.

He realized two things: from the sounds he heard over his shoulder, his attacker had backup, more backup than perhaps even Drogo could handle, though he could hold his own in a fight.

He also saw that this group was not from Thundera. All the citizens knew the penalty for attacking a Cleric, protectors royally appointed.

These thugs obviously didn't care.

He wanted to take an actual look at his attackers, but dare not take his eyes off Shortsword. He seemed nervous, and he knew nervous sword wielders were often the most dangerous.

Sure enough, Shortsword lunged forward, swinging wildly. Drogo was able to both evade his attack and put himself in a position to have all of his opponents at his front.

There were five attackers in all; Shortsword, two big, burly panthers who looked to be twins, a mangy-looking lion, and a small but quick bobcat. All of them brandished weapons mostly consisting of swords and daggers. One even had a club.

Drogo backed up a distance to where the alley opened up a bit, putting a wall to his back. It would not do to be surrounded by this bunch. Shortsword seemed to be the leader, waving them to spread out to try and find an opening for attack.

The Cleric knew he would have to be smart about defending himself, that the best way to come out of this alive was to disarm and disable them as quickly as possible.

He resolved that, if necessary, he would kill. Their intent was obvious, and he reached deep to find his own. Drogo didn't take killing lightly, but the weapons they carried were vicious.

His thoughts filled with Inca, with their possible future, and a growl trickled from him. He swore that all they built would not be ruined by this lot. He would fight for his life, to be here for her.

So he cleared his mind, just as Jaga had taught him, and waited for them to make the first move. For a moment, stillness took hold of all present, each watching and waiting. The tension was thick, tactile, and electrified by the tempers of the combatants.

Finally, Shortsword made a go, thrusting his weapon forward. Drogo stepped swiftly to his attacker's side, bringing one hand downward to grasp the sword arm and push his back with the other, using his opponent's forward momentum to drive him into the wall behind them.

Shortsword hit with a loud thud, and rolled over on his back, grasping his head in pain. Drogo raised his foot high, aiming to bring it down to crush the other cat's throat. But before he could do so he was tackled by Bobcat, who had quickly run at him upon seeing his leader fall.

The two tussled on the ground, snarls and growls loud. The smaller assailant struck the Cleric on the ribs, the slight pain angering him all the more. Bobcat was small, but quick, and it was all Drogo could do to wrestle the club from his claws before kicking him back.

More attacks quickly followed, and when a dagger slashed his arm, then nicked his cheek, Drogo was able to finally subdue one of them, one of the panthers, snapping the cat's neck as he threw himself at him.

His twin snarled in anger. Apparently they _had_ been brothers.

He grudgingly admitted, noting the blood dripping down his face and arm, that he needed help. Perhaps his brother was still out with his Soldiers. Or maybe some Clerics would be nearby?

Drogo had no idea, but he would try. Inca's face flashed through his mind as his cuts began to smart. _Brother, please hear me._

It was as the remnants of the group rushed him again, their eyes lit with bloodlust, that Drogo threw back his head and roared.

* * *

Hadrian helped one of his Soldiers to properly polish his spear. Some of them were incredibly green, but it made his heart glad to guide them. Many of them would go on to be powerful warriors, fit and strong of heart as well as body.

But the harsh reality of it was that many of them would die as well, and he did his best to see to it that if the unthinkable did occur, it would not be because of the quality of his training.

Each recruit was put through rigorous instruction, and he refused to recommend any for advancement if they did not truly deserve it.

Everyone knew of this, that Hadrian's goals for them were high, but attainable by anyone with the will to achieve it. He had a history of exemplary service and honor.

It was why he was so respected. It was why he had been reinstated by the king himself.

"Okay," Hadrian said, his voice projecting as he addressed his charges. "Make sure that you do not apply too much oil on the metal, or it can cause—" He stopped abruptly, his ears perking. _That sound…_

The Soldiers watched, confused, as their Captain walked forward a few steps, oblivious to them. He cocked his head slightly, then tore off at a dead run. They looked at each other in bewilderment.

Where could he be heading off to so quickly?

* * *

Inca tended the garden outside her and Drogo's home. She had always loved the little vegetable garden she and her father had tended to growing up. Now she could grow her own. It kept her busy, but she was thankful for the distraction.

She felt the first stirrings of her heat cycle coming on. Having gone through many before, she knew the symptoms, and knew what to do in the meantime. Throughout her relationship with Drogo, she had always abstained when a cycle would hit her, to Drogo's great chagrin.

They had always found other ways to occupy themselves, until the cycle dictated they be apart for a bit. Inca had not wanted any pregnancies while she was tasked with protecting Leia and her family.

She also, at the time, had not been completely sure about her ability to trust Drogo, and had had no intention of cubbing for a male she was hesitant about.

But in Drogo she had truly found what she had not even known she had wanted. God knew he was strong. But in addition to all that, he was honest, patient, kind, and he _listened_. He listened to her and made her feel like she was precious to him.

He was assertive too. Inca knew very early on that she could never be with someone she could dominate. Drogo knew when to let her have her way, but he also knew when to take control and be the big, strong male he needed to be, who _she_ needed him to be.

She loved him so much. And when he got home, she'd…wait.

As a matter of fact, it was a little late. Shouldn't he be here by now? Inca set her tools aside and got to her feet, her face darkened by concern. The evening was going to dim into night soon, and he said he would be here before then.

Drogo was never late.

She went into the house, washing her hands and sitting down for a moment, trying to stay calm. But her gut was screaming at her that something was wrong. She had learned to trust her little intuitions, and she would not ignore them now.

Her gaze fell on the mantle, and just before she left the house, she grabbed the object of her attentions. Then she secured the door and went to look for her mate.

* * *

Drogo dragged his claws across Shortsword's face. His weapon was long lost in a drain during his struggles with the Cleric, and now the two grappled hand to hand.

Two more of the thug's comrades were down, one, Mangy, with his own sword shoved through his heart, the other, Bobcat, with his leg broken, having landed wrongly when he was thrown.

There were only two now, Shortsword and the remaining panther twin. Drogo prided himself on whittling the group down, but he was beginning to fatigue. His wounds were still bleeding, and he knew one of his ribs was either bruised or broken.

He had hoped his call would have brought reinforcements, but his heart had dropped when no one had come running. It would appear he was on his own.

His opponent was also tired, but he had caught a second wind while the panther twin had tussled with Drogo first. Now the Cleric was at a distinct disadvantage.

This was proven when the leopard made an elaborate motion that caught an exhausted Drogo off guard, and the lion found himself in a choke hold. He ceased struggling when he felt a blade at his back. He braced himself, fully expecting to feel the bite of steel in his flesh.

_No_, Drogo thought desperately. _I can't die, not now…Inca._

"The boss will want to deal with you himself," the criminal said, his breath a sickly combination with the stink of the street. His cohort chuckled. Drogo wondered just who this "boss" was.

All three cats froze when they heard an accented male voice interject from a location near where Drogo had entered.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Drogo immediately perked up, despite his fatigue. He knew that voice. It was that rapacious bastard from before. He turned his eyes as far as he could in his captor's hold, pinning the approaching jaguar with a glare.

Tuco moved toward them, a confidence in his stride that gave Drogo all the information he needed.

"So it was you," Drogo growled. "You couldn't best me in battle, so you went the coward's path and hired mercenaries." He laughed low and soft. "No wonder Inca didn't want you."

"No! It is because _you_ are in the way!" Tuco screamed, his face contorting in anger. "Once you are gone, things will change." He calmed himself, walking forward. "And then, I will have Inca all to myself."

He pulled a knife from out of nowhere, and it glinted in the torch lights. "I can't wait to remove your foul scent, your touch from her. Your filthy stench has corrupted _my_ Inca! But all shall be made right." He sidled up to Drogo, held securely in the arms of his henchman.

He considered the lion a moment, his face thoughtful. "Where to cut first, I wonder." He gestured with his knife, hoping to scare Drogo. But when he looked back to the lion's face, he found icy green eyes focused purely on his face.

"You really think that you could ever make her forget me?" Drogo said with a smirk, unafraid of the jaguar and his little knife.

"Even if you _could_ kill me, I have staked my claim on her repeatedly, _thoroughly_, on both her mind _and_ her body. She will forever be mine, even if I leave this world, whereas you hadn't even crossed her mind until that day in the market."

He was glad she wasn't there to hear this conversation. Drogo knew she wouldn't be amused by his possessive talk. But most of it was true after all.

"It is like I said before," Tuco said, trying to appear calm when the growl beneath his voice showed otherwise. "I was her first."

"Yes," Drogo replied smoothly. "You were. But I'm sure Inca was glad to have traded her first for her best." `

Moreover, he really wondered at Tuco's sanity, with his insolence at having raped Inca. How could he possibly think she'd want to be with him after the pain he'd caused her?

Hadrian arrived just as the spotted stranger was talking about how he would kill his brother. He kept gesturing with the knife, and Hadrian felt his anger beginning to seethe within him.

"I think I will cut you here," Tuco purred, pointing to Drogo's abdomen. He was very pleased with himself. "I'll let your guts spill out, watch you die slowly. I will bring Inca here and show her what I've done. Then, she will be mine again."

Drogo kept quiet, his mouth in a grim line. He had scented his brother when he had come, carefully keeping his face blank so as not to alert Tuco. He was filled with relief, having thought that no one would come.

The jaguar's brown eyes lit with some sick, new idea. When his gaze moved to his groin, Drogo felt his heart pound. _Okay, Brother_, he thought, alarmed. _Time to make your move._

"Or maybe _this_ is the place you need a trim most?" Tuco said with a grin. "You seem to be most confident, and I think I know how to change that. What interest will Inca have in you if you're not even male anymore?"

"Now, now," Hadrian finally interjected, surprising Drogo's captors. "I'm sure there's no need to turn my brother into a eunuch." The two thugs were momentarily distracted, giving Drogo the opportunity he was waiting for.

He kicked Tuco in the stomach, making him double over, coughing harshly. He then thrust his head back sharply, catching Shortsword in the nose. This enabled him to escape the now slack choke hold.

Distancing himself from his attackers, Drogo moved to his brother's side, the two squaring off with the remaining two thugs. Tuco had backed off to the side, glaring at them.

"Stop them!" he yelled to his underlings. "Stop them, or you will not be paid!" He backed further up, moving out of the range.

Shortsword shook off the blow to his nose. He decided money was more prudent than common sense and dared to square off against the two lions. He waved the panther forward, and the two advanced.

Hadrian came to the conclusion that the thugs were more brawn than brains. This shouldn't be too much trouble.

That was proven within a matter of minutes when one attacker, the panther, was knocked unconscious, and Shortsword was being cornered by the two lions.

"You could give up, you know," Hadrian said, trying to negotiate. "My men will take you to the dungeon to await trial. You don't have to die."

The leopard spat at their feet. "Please. I already know I'm as good as dead for attacking one of this city's precious Clerics. What do I really have to gain in letting myself be taken?"

Neither lion noticed Tuco sneaking up on silent feet, his attention on Drogo. This was his chance. He could finally remove this obstacle from his path to Inca, forever. He focused in on Drogo's back.

He could penetrate his heart from behind. Even if he failed to do that, he could still puncture a lung, and that was hard to heal. Tuco could not keep a smile from his face at the thought of his greatest enemy drowning in his own blood.

He finally made it close enough. Raising his knife, Tuco sneered triumphantly at his victim as he tensed to bring the sword down…

…and started in shock when he felt first the pain then moisture blooming from his back. "Wha…" he mumbled, shuffling his feet to turn himself around.

There, staring at the blood on her claws, was Inca.

She watched as the liquid trickled down her fingers, dripping to the ground like red rain. She hadn't intended to stab Tuco, hadn't intended to harm anyone, really. She had just wanted to find out where Drogo was, make sure he wasn't in any danger.

But when she had heard the commotion, had entered the area to see the fighting that had occurred she had been shocked and appalled…until she had seen Tuco threatening Drogo.

He'd nearly caught Drogo by surprise. She had seen the knife, had known what Tuco had intended, and she had acted. All she had known was that she would not allow Tuco, her rapist, to take the only love she had ever known.

So she had pulled from her pouch the object she had grabbed on a whim as she had left their home, the obsidian dagger. Her mind had gone blank, and she hadn't even registered moving before she was standing at Tuco's back.

She was without thought as her hands had driven the razor sharp, black dagger through Tuco's flesh. It had slid home like cutting through butter. She was blank, until the wetness of blood had poured across her hands.

Now she stood, looking at it on her fingers, feeling suddenly unclean. She felt her bowels bubble in protest. She had been trained, had been a warrior for years now. But never had she killed, or even attempted to do so.

She'd just never had reason to. All of the skirmishes she had experienced had been minor, easily resolved. But this…

This was someone she knew, someone in whose life she had been involved. And she had killed him. His blood was so sticky on her hands.

She turned away just in time to lose her stomach contents on the dirty ground in that alley, heaving painfully.

Tuco had fallen, the shock of seeing that Inca had been his attacker, his killer, rendering him speechless. He took in his surroundings, resigned that this would be the last view he had of this world.

He saw the dark lion kneeling next to her, next to _his_ Inca, comforting her as she finished being sick. _Inca… _He must have vocalized his thoughts, because both she and the interloper suddenly looked at him.

"How could you do this?" he thought he asked. Did he? His voice sounded muffled, far away, so he was uncertain. "You belong to me!"

Inca wiped her face, her expression incredulous. She could not believe he was still talking such nonsense. She didn't want the last words they said to each other to be ones of anger, so she let it go.

"I'm sorry, Tuco," she said gently, placing her hand into Drogo's so he could help her up. "But I could not let you hurt him."

"Him?!" Tuco bellowed despite his mortal injury. "Why do you worry for him, when you are mine? _I_ am the one you should concern yourself with. _I_ am the one who has loved you for years!"

"Yes, ever since you raped me?" she replied. Her hands had started shaking. She had not wanted to relive that day. "That was the worst day of my life, Tuco. If you had loved me, why did you violate my trust, my body, like you did?"

Tuco's face displayed no concern whatsoever for Inca's trauma. "You wanted me," he seethed angry at her betrayal. "You met with me at times far later than was prudent. You came to me smelling good, looking good. You knew what would happen, yet you came anyway. You wanted it!"

Inca gasped as Drogo stepped forward, kneeling next to the seemingly doomed jaguar. "Watch yourself, fool," he growled, his eyes hard as stone. "I will tolerate no more of your disrespect of her."

Tuco's mouth tilted up into a smirk, and he scoffed, undeterred by the Cleric's warning. "Please. Why so concerned?" His voice sounded quieter, weaker, but steady. "You should have seen her that night, writhing under my fingers, her sweet voice moaning into the night."

Drogo snarled, grasping Tuco's throat in his claws. "Shut your mouth! I will _not_ warn you again." Inca grasped his shoulder, but he ignored her. He'd had enough.

Tuco kept on, uncaring or perhaps not realizing he was damning himself. "She was soaking wet, ready and willing. _That_ is the one you are so concerned about." He stared at Drogo. "Poor thing, to think the one you have mated was nothing but a common who—"

His sentence ended abruptly with a sound between a wretch and a cough. Then all was silent.

It had been easy to end the disgusting ramblings, all too easy to sink his claws into the throat and pull, tearing the impudent cat's voice box from the column of his neck. Drogo gazed at his stained hand, almost in dream-like daze.

It was so peaceful now. The insulting, fleshy structure was still quivering in his bloody claws when he threw it roughly to the side. He turned to Inca, who was shocked, but her expression was more of concerned for him.

Cupping his face in her hands, she searched his eyes. "Are you alright?" When he did not answer immediately, she drew him closer, rubbing her cheek along his. "Drogo?"

She felt relieved when his arm curved around her back. "I'm fine, love," he answered. "I couldn't let him continue. I am sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? You are not to blame for his words or the actions you took in response to them. I would do the same thing were I in your place." She kissed his cheek, and turned him from Tuco's body; neither wanted to look at him again.

Inca quietly spoke to Hadrian. "Could you take care of this please?" she asked, indicating the dead cat.

Hadrian nodded. "I will have my Soldiers remove him. I will also give my superiors a full report." He watched his little brother, hoping that he was well. Hadrian had never seen Drogo kill before.

"Brother, will you be alright?" he asked, his face drawn with worry. Drogo began walking with Inca, both of them heading home. His hand clung to hers like a life line.

"I will be fine," was all he said. The pair left, eager to be away from the scene.

Hadrian looked at Tuco's corpse. _Good riddance_, he thought. It had taken all he had not to kill the fool himself, but he was happy it was over. Truth be told, this was probably the best solution.

Tuco had been a very troubled individual.

Hadrian bent down and closed the dead cat's glazed eyes. Inca's dagger lay near, still stained with blood. He would return it to her soon, after it was thoroughly cleansed.

He checked the surrounding area before going to summon help to remove the body. It was pretty late now. He expected no citizens would encounter the body at this time of night.

* * *

Back home, Inca ushered Drogo in, sitting him down at their kitchen table. She brought a bowl of hot water and soap, and proceeded to wash his hands, scrubbing briskly.

She washed her own as well, and when their claws were clean, she emptied the bowl and dried them with towels. She then decided to prepare him some tea, but thought better of it, selecting hard ale to help him relax.

Killing tended to keep the adrenaline up, and Inca focused on making him relax. His breathing had calmed down, and he accepted his drink gratefully. They sat in companionable silence for a bit before Drogo broke the silence.

"I am sorry, Inca," he said again, his voice quiet. When she made to speak, he stopped her. "I know that he was the first male you ever had feelings for, and I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He was someone you knew."

She nodded in agreement, though she really had no regrets. "I am glad that he is gone, Drogo. I suppose I should feel bad, but I simply do not. His comments aside, he was _louco_. He would have been a threat to us for as long as he lived." She shrugged. "And you did spare him once. It is not your fault he was too much of a fool to stop."

She placed her hand atop his. "You did the right thing, _Toteotzin_." Her face darkened, anger finally surfacing. "I cannot _believe_ he tried to take you from me, as if that would make me want to be with him. If anything, I would have killed him myself!"

Drogo sipped his drink, feeling calmer with each sip. "He would never have been a match against me in single combat. It was such an obvious tactic, to gather reinforcements. I should have seen it coming."

Inca continued to scowl indignantly.

"It's okay, mate," he said, smiling. "It is over, and we no longer have to worry about him. Now, there is only us." He leaned forward, kissing her softly.

When he pulled back, Inca had a mischievous little smile on her face. At Drogo's inquiring look, she explained. "To be honest with you, it made me feel…happy to see you defend my honor like that. Until now, I have always had to defend myself."

With solitude and the company of her mate, Inca was able to put the events of tonight in better perspective. She was free, free of Tuco and his shadow over her life. She could be with her mate, love him, without looking over her shoulder in fear.

It was a very good feeling, and with it came relief, and excitement.

She stood, walking to the kitchen doorway. Tuco would not haunt them anymore. She glanced at him over her shoulder. "If I am not mistaken, I believe we had business to attend to tonight?"

Drogo's mind was instantly taken back to that fateful day, when he had met himself a smart, sultry, spotted female that had changed his life forever.

That look had drawn him in then, and it had no less effect now. Rising from his chair to follow his giggling mate, Drogo smiled to himself. He wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Approx. 7 months later…_

Drogo cradled his little girl to his chest. Inca had come through the first birth with flying colors, her own will and the Clerical training she had undergone aiding her. Even now, as she was bringing their second cub into the world, she was breathing and pushing through it as though the pain were minor.

He was glad. The nervousness that had gripped him when she had gone into labor was now alleviated. She would be fine, and judging by the strong cries from his firstborn, so would the cubs.

He looked down at the little one in his arms. She was the spitting image of Inca with her spotted markings and fierce, glimmering green eyes. But his parentage was clear in the chocolate brown of her wispy hair.

She grasped his finger in a tight grip as she sniffled. He had managed to calm her down some, but he knew she would be ready to nurse soon.

He walked back toward the bed, where Inca was working hard, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth, taking directions from Ona perfectly. The healer had come as soon as she'd heard, the couple having decided to birth their cubs in their home.

Her mother stood by her bedside, wiping sweat from her head as needed and whispering supportive words to her daughter. Leia was also in the room, keeping the hot water and towels stocked.

Inca's family had come from their rooms at an inn for the event. They had traveled up from Mazatlàn a couple weeks prior to be here for the birth. Leia had left the castle to spend the night with her friend, after hearing that she had begun labor hours ago.

The babies were actually arriving a little earlier than they had originally been told. Ona informed them that with twins, it often happened that way.

Hadrian and Tessa had come as well, providing moral support for Drogo and Inca as well as advice for the birthing. The two had a cub of their own, a male named Caspian. He was now 4 months of age, and was getting bigger every day.

The house was crowded. Most of the guests were in the living room, with only Leia, Tessa, and Erzine allowed in the birthing room aside from Drogo, Ona, and of course Inca.

Drogo wondered how quickly the little ones would grow. Would he even have time to enjoy them? His Clerical duties were increasing, as security precautions were being upgraded in preparation for the possible threats scouts had been reporting.

Inca would be able to stay home for a time to care for the cubs. But eventually, she too would be called back to duty. Drogo had appealed to Jaga to keep her with the forces home in Thundera, asking that the Grand Cleric keep that a secret. He didn't want Inca to think he was coddling her.

Now that they had cubs to raise he wanted to at least have their mother at hand should they need help. Leia, the cubs' Godmother, had offered to keep the cubs with her when the Order called their parents away. Inca had been most grateful.

Ona's voice increased in volume, stating that she could see the next cub emerging. Drogo handed off his girl to her grandmother and went to Inca's bedside.

"Ah, _Toteotzin_. Done enjoying the fruits of _my_ labor?" she panted, smirking briefly. He smiled. At least she had still maintained her feisty attitude. That was a relief.

"Okay, Inca," Ona said calmly. "I think one more great push should do it."

The mother grabbed Drogo's hand, gave one last heave, and out came the second cub.

"You've done it!" Ona crowed, lifting the squalling bundle up to show its parents. "You have a male!" She smiled widely at the couple and handed him off to Tessa to be cleaned.

Drogo beamed down at his mate. "You did it, my love. You did it." He stroked her sweaty forehead before kissing it softly. "I'm so proud of you."

Inca relaxed as Ona helped clean her up. "I'm just glad they're healthy and I don't have to feel them kicking me anymore." She sighed, relieved.

Ona made sure the cub was well cleaned and healthy. Once Inca had had a drink of water, she held out her hands. "Give them to me," she said with a smile.

She had hardly gotten enough time to admire her daughter before her son had begun his entrance into the world. Now she had time to look at both babies.

The two were brought over, and she took them into each arm, inspecting them and taking in their scent.

The girl was already rooting, and was suckling while the boy looked at his mother's face. He had the appearance of being all black, but his little spots could be seen, just a shade or two lighter than his base color. Inca smiled. Her mother's genes were strong.

But so were Drogo's she mused, gazing into the smoky green orbs of his eyes. These were unmistakably their cubs. She guided the male's mouth to a breast, and relaxed as her cubs fed.

Drogo looked on, amazed at how gentle Inca was. Oh he knew she would be a good mother, but her fiery nature was an ever present part of her. It was part of what had drawn him to her in the first place.

But with her babies at her breasts, she was gentle and patient. It was amazing how parenthood could change someone. Even now, he was determined that no one and nothing would harm them.

"So," he began. "What shall we call them?" He caressed his little girl's head. She hardly noticed. She was so focused on feeding, right along with her brother.

Inca considered the babies a moment before answering. "I think for my _cihuanton_…" She thought a few moments longer. "Tivoli." She nodded, more to herself than anyone. "Yes, she is Tivoli." Drogo agreed. It was a good name.

"And you, what would you like your son to be called?" she asked him. Drogo smiled. "I think Tobias is a nice, strong male name. It was my grandfather's name, and he was a tough, honorable cat. I think Tobias will be proud when I tell him of his namesake."

"Yes," Inca agreed. "I like that name."

The babies completed feeding shortly after. Ona took the sleeping cubs, giving their mother a break. They were laid in a bassinet not far from her.

Drogo ran a hand across Inca's slightly damp forehead. "Are you alright, mate?" he asked, still concerned for her. He knew she was exhausted.

But she smiled at him, meeting his eyes before closing hers. "I am just fine, only tired." A loud growl broke the silence of the room. She opened her eyes again, blushing slightly. "And hungry."

Drogo laughed. "I'll fetch you something." As he went to exit, heading for the pantry, Inca called out to him. "The meat and the marmalade please," she said. It had been something random that she had craved during her pregnancy. Apparently it had left a lasting impression on her.

Drogo nodded with a smile and left on his mission. He passed their mostly patiently-waiting family members, including Leia, and told them they could enter. When he returned, everyone was in the room, cooing over the newest additions.

Inca's mother was talking softly to her, seeing to her daughter's well being and giving advice. Inca soaked it all in, grateful to have loved ones around to help. Her father was admiring the sleeping cubs along with Maya, Chupa, and Nana, whose daughter was asleep in the living room.

Drogo looked on, not wanting to interrupt. His mind wandered, imagining his babies and how they would look in a year, 5 years, 10 years. Would his son take after him in size and manner? Would his daughter be tall, beautiful? Would he have to kill someone over her?

He smiled at the thought just in time for Hadrian to place a hand on his shoulder. "You did well, Brother," he said. "Congratulations."

Hadrian grinned back at him. "I really did nothing today. Inca did all the work." He glanced at his mate, seeing her mother assisting her in eating the meat he'd brought her. Leia stood by, a grin on her face. "She was magnificent."

"Yes, they work hard to bring our babies into the world," Hadrian agreed. "It's a wonder they need us at all. But there is no place I would rather have been than seeing my cub born. There's no experience like it. I can't wait to introduce Caspian to his cousins."

"They will be good friends, I'm sure." The two lions looked when they heard Jaga's voice. The Grand Cleric entered, approaching Drogo. "Congratulations, my son," he said, shaking Drogo's hand.

"Thank you, Mentor," Drogo answered. He appreciated that the Grand Cleric had made a point to be present despite his busy schedule. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," Jaga nodded before moving to give his regards to Inca.

Tobias and Tivoli surprisingly slept through the noise of all the family and friends who came to pay their respects.

Later, when all was quiet again, Drogo held his mate close after she had fed the cubs again. He mused on how fortunate he was.

He was mate to a beautiful, feisty jaguaress who had brightened his dismal, solitary existence into a fulfilling life. And now, he had two testaments to the love they had for each other.

_I am so blessed_, he thought to himself, smiling against Inca's hair. She was his rib, his completion, and he could not believe he had found her.

She snuggled closer to him with a contented sigh. He kissed her hair and moved his mouth to her ear.

"I love you, my Inca," he whispered, closing his eyes as sleep finally took him. Unbeknownst to him, his mate's mouth tilted up at his words.

For the first time in her life, Inca was content. She had known he was special from the very moment she had encountered him deep in thought in the palace that momentous day.

Something about him had just drawn her in, and she had finally gone with what her gut, and loins at the time, had told her.

It was the best decision she had made all her life. The rest was history.

She knew now that all would be well. Whatever trials would come, whatever life threw at her, at them, it would be fine. He would protect her, and their cubs, ferociously and with his life if need be.

Because as long as she was within Drogo's arms, protected and loved, she would be alright.

"I love you too, Drogo," she whispered. "Always."

* * *

**Yep, I'm a sucker for happy endings. Thanks for reading! *^-^***


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